


The Aribeth I Know

by Anpwhotep (Yinepuhotep)



Series: A Neverwinter Nightmare [1]
Category: Neverwinter Nights
Genre: F/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-27
Updated: 2014-08-27
Packaged: 2018-02-15 00:22:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 8
Words: 72,940
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2208624
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yinepuhotep/pseuds/Anpwhotep
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The aftermath Morag's defeat, as told by the Hero of Neverwinter. If you weren't sure just how guilty Aribeth was, this story tells why she is innocent.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

_So you want to hear my story from the beginning? All right, if you insist._

_Where I come from, I'm a story teller. It's a completely different world – one that only the followers of Gond are likely to find to their liking. Come to think of it, I'm not sure how much **they'd**  like it. I could tell you about my life on that world, but it's really mostly irrelevant to what you want to know, with one minor exception. On my world, I was a follower of one of the gods who did  **not**  cross the void to join the people of Mulhorand. It kind of surprises me, really, since He was – is? I'm not quite sure what the appropriate usage is here – one of the more popular of the gods in that family._

_Look, if I'm going to get this all said before your scribe falls over, I'm going to need something to drink. Just get me a few potions of clarity. They're pretty watery, but they'll have to do until you people let me make a **proper**  pot of coffee. I don't know, a half dozen, maybe? Thanks._

_So anyway, on my world, I worshiped a god from my world's equivalent of the Mulhorandi family, whose portfolio was Death, Protection, Travel, Dreams, Trickery, and the Moon. Among those of us who followed Him, He was seen as the patron of guardians, somewhat like Torm is here in Neverwinter._

_Ah...that's better. I still don't see how you people can imagine anything this weak and watery has magical powers, but it'll do in a pinch. So, where was I? Oh, yes..._

_As I was saying, one of my god's domains was Dreams. And this all started with a Dream. I hate Dreams, I really do. I was walking down a road that led through a bunch of fertile fields, when I saw a trail that led off the road, through one of the fields, toward the West. Now, being the naturally curious type I am, I took the trail. All around me, the field was ripe, almost ready for harvest. I mean, I'm no expert on farming, but even to my eyes it was obvious that it was time to bring in the reapers. As I followed the trail through the field, I began to hear the sounds of combat. Now, I'd already figured out I was dreaming, but I didn't yet know I was Dreaming, if you know what I mean. Say, do you have another pipe handy? I haven't had a good smoke since I arrived here, and...thanks. What's the..Fadaidh? Ha! That's a good one. When's the last time you were in Scotland? Oy. Yeah, yeah, I know, sore wa himitsu desu. Ah...Why's everyone turning green? It doesn't smell **that**  bad. Kind of reminds me of a good Oriental blend._

_So anyway, I followed the sounds of combat, and when I stepped out of the field, into the Western Desert, I realized I was Dreaming, not just dreaming. Did I mention how much I **hate** Dreaming? There He was, in jackal form, harrying some creature that looked like a humanoid lizard. Whatever this lizard was – yeah, I know now it was Morag, but at the time, it was just some humanoid lizard – it was trying to blight all the fields in view. It had already succeeded in blighting some of them, and they were withering as I watched. Worse yet, where its blight touched, even the soil was dead. So dead that the creatures that ventured onto it fell dead as soon as they touched the blighted soil, and when they died, they crumbled to dust, too. Even their spirits crumbled. And with every farm that fell, and every creature that fell, the lizard thing seemed to be getting stronger._

_I honestly didn't know what to do. Everything I loved was crumbling around me, and my Father was all alone, fighting this creature that seemed to be the cause of it. So, I jumped on its back and tried to pull it off balance. I wasn't very successful, but then again, I didn't have to be. As soon as I distracted it, He went for its throat. It didn't fall down dead when he tore its throat out, though. Instead, it turned to mist, like some kind of vampire, and then vanished. I scraped up my hands and knees when I hit the ground after falling through it._

_Father told me to look back at the field I had come through, and see how close it was to harvesting. Now, I'd already figured out that it was just waiting for the reapers to arrived, but when He told me that **I**  was that field, I just sort of sat back and stared at him in shock. I mean, in my old life, my health was horrible, but I hadn't thought it was  **that**  horrible._

Anubis sat on his haunches, waiting, while Fred stared off into the distance for nearly a full minute. With a heavy sigh, Fred turned his head and refocused his gaze.

"So...what about Lada?" Fred asked. "Will she be ok?"

"Do you see that field?" Anubis asked, pointing with his nose at a field that was still growing, but not near its harvest time. "Because you distracted Morag, Lada is safe."

"Thank goodness," Fred breathed, then peered curiously at Anubis. "Morag, you say? So that creature was something singularly dangerous?"

"Morag  **is**  singularly dangerous," Anubis said. "If she's not stopped, her power will spread from the world she currently threatens. Think of her as the ultimate evil overlord, but with the power to make her mad plans come true."

"Not exactly reassuring, Father. Since I'm going to die anyway, why tell me?"

" **Because**  you are going to die." Anubis snorted, amused, and waited to see how long it took.

"Because I am going to die...," Fred mused, then pinched his eyes together. "This is just like Demon Hunter's Journal, isn't it? Except I have to go to another world. How are you going to get me there?"

"I'm not," Anubis said. "It took some doing, but I was able to make contact with a god on the world you're going to. He should be here any moment."

"Can you tell me anything about that world, before he gets here?" Fred asked.

"Other than that their versions of us make me glad they don't have a copy of me there?" Anubis replied. "All the gods on that world answer to a sort of an over-god, who doesn't have anything to do with humans at all. I didn't get much opportunity to learn anything more."

"That's probably best," said a new arrival, a man in shining silver armor, with raven-black hair and an air about him of unshakable bravery and rightness. "It's not your world, and I have no doubt the rules are entirely different. So this is your child?"

"Yes," Anubis said. "This is my son, Fred MacManus. I haven't yet asked him to choose."

"Father...," Fred drawled, rolling his eyes. "You tell me that Morag is already threatening one world, if she isn't stopped, she's going to threaten this world, and then you act as if I have a **choice**? Have you been getting into Bes's beer? Like I asked before, how are you going to get me there?"

"I'll have you know, I can be plenty silly without having to drink any of Bes's stash," Anubis humphed. Then he nosed Fred in the chest, and licked his face. "You are my son, and I couldn't be more proud of you. I'm entrusting you to Kelemvor. Think of him as a foster father."

Fred wrapped his arms around Anubis and hugged him close. "Thank you, Father. I love you. I guess we shouldn't drag this out, huh?" He pushed himself to his feet and turned to look at Kelemvor. "I'm ready whenever you are."

Kelemvor looked Fred over, then nodded to Anubis. "I see why you're so proud of him. I'll watch over him as if he were one of my own."

"Thank you," Anubis said, as he shifted into his humanoid form to return Fred's hug. "He's giving up his place in the West for the sake of all of us."

Kelemvor extended his hand to Fred. "Shall we go, then? Once we're on Toril, I can resurrect you."

"Uh...," Fred said as he reached out to take the offered hand, "I was kind of hoping for something a little better. See, the reason I'm dead so young is because I was born with a number of health problems that would make me kind of useless to you if all you did was resurrect me. My guess is that what's killing me on this world is that I stopped breathing while in this Dream. I do that a lot. I even have a machine that breathes for me while I sleep."

"I...see...," Kelemvor said slowly. "Well then, I'll have to do something about that. So this is why being newly-dead doesn't bother you?"

"Nah," Fred said, shrugging. "Death is no big deal. It's just a door to another form of existence, ne? A journey you don't return from the same as you left. I've never been afraid of  **death**. My greatest fear, since I was a child, was always of being so broken I'd  **wish**  to die, and be unable."

"Amazing," Kelemvor mused. "I believe we have much to discuss."

_So, that's why I'm here, and wearing Kelemvor's symbol. I mean, I knew right away I was going to follow Him, even before Father told me to think of him as my foster father. Eh? Oh, no, not **literally**. You see, on the world I came from, those of my faith saw our gods as being like parents, in a spiritual sense. In some cases, like with Father, the relationship was more than merely spiritual. To me, He was more of a father than my birth father had ever even tried to be. I will always love him the way I should have been able to love my birth father, but couldn't._

_I'm pretty sure there must have been a conspiracy between Kelemvor and the Triad, given how I was treated when I got here. He was true to his word, and when he resurrected me, he not only removed every health problem I had ever had in my old life, he gave me a body that was thirty years younger than my old one had been. You know how weird it is to wake up in the morning and feel peach fuzz where you used to have a beard? No, probably not, yeah._

_Anyway, I'm sure I must have driven the poor instructors at the Academy crazy. Sure, it took me a little extra time to get through, but by the time I was done, I had a basic grounding in everything I wanted to know. Actually, I know I drove Herban nuts. He reminded me of my drill instructor from when I went through military basic training back on my old world. And I did the same thing with him that I did with that old drill instructor – just smiled and did what I needed to, regardless of how he tried to break me down and squeeze me into his militia mold. Ketta, on the other hand, was rather fun. Not only did she have a lot of useful things to teach, she didn't have any objections to sitting around with a student and sharing whatever juicy tidbits of gossip she'd picked up. I think the things I learned from her about Neverwinter and Faerun in general did more to help me fully transition to this world than anything anyone else did. Elynwyd wasn't a bad teacher, but there's something about trying to learn from a priest of Tyr that just didn't work for me. I don't think it worked too well for him, either. I asked too many questions, instead of just taking things on his authority._

_Huh? Oh, no, Kelemvor didn't even try to steer me toward being a priest. He wasn't quite sure how I was going to fit into this world, but He gave me plenty of room to figure it out for myself. Good thing He did. It made it easier to cope when He ...changed. He's still the god I instinctively trusted when Father introduced us, but...well, now no one can use Him as an excuse for doing utterly **stupid**  stuff._

_So, the first time I met Aribeth was Graduation Day – the day of the massacre. Honestly, my first impression of her was that she had a quarterstaff firmly embedded in her butt. No, seriously. But then again, that's been my impression of **most**  of Tyr's paladins. She just happened to be the first one I'd met outside of a couple fellow students. The first hint I had she might actually be a person, and not just a stuffed suit of armor, was when I asked her what she thought of Desther. Whew! Her opinion could have peeled paint off a wall. It's just too bad she didn't trust her instincts from the start. Who knows how much of what happened afterwards could have been avoided._

"So no, seriously," Fred asked, putting on his best 'I'm innocent! Really!' face, "why  **do**  you put up with Desther?"

"You want to know the honest truth?" Aribeth asked, with a heavy sigh, while looking down and gripping the hilt of her sword until her knuckles were white. "I do it because Fenthick says he is to be trusted. Even if I did not trust Fenthick because of my love for him, he is a ranking priest of Tyr, and thus is my superior."

"So, if you were to follow your instincts...?"

"I would..." Aribeth looked up, her eyes flaring with more spirit than Fred had seen from her since the first time he'd asked her what she thought of Desther. Seeing the expression on Fred's face, she slammed her fist against her thigh and growled, "Damn it, Fred! Don't ask that of me! You  **know**  I am obligated to obey my order!"

"I'm sorry," Fred said gently, letting the mask of innocence fall. "I just...there's something about him...Hell, there's something about all the Helmites...that just puts my teeth on edge. I don't know what it is, but everything about them grates at me like a badly-done death metal song."

"Like a...what?" Aribeth shook her head. "Sometimes, I wonder about you, Fred. The things you say are so...strange."

"That's me," Fred laughed. "Strange, through and through. Anyway, I'll make a deal with you, ok? On top of the work I'm already doing, I'll keep my eyes open for anything that might prove, one way or another, just how trustworthy those Helmites are, ok?"

"All right." Aribeth nodded slowly as she considered the suggestion. "Just...don't say anything about it, including to me, until you have something solid."

"Works for me. I like you too much to get you worked up like this again." Fred smiled warmly and offered his hand. When Aribeth took it, he squeezed it firmly, taking care not to linger too long, then looked around briefly before calling out, "Linu! I'm ready to head out again. Are you finished resupplying?"

"Just about," Linu called back, her head popping up from where she was poking through the supplies in the temple store. "I need to get a few more bottles of water for blessing, then I'll be ready to go."

"We  **have**  holy water," Aribeth called, then whispered to Fred, "Why are you traveling with  **her**? Didn't you hear what she did to the high priest?"

"Sure did," Fred whispered back. "She told me before I recruited her. I like that kind of honesty in someone. Besides, I've been known to be a klutz myself, at times."

"Oh, I saw your holy water," Linu called back, "but I wouldn't want to be rude and use water dedicated to Tyr when I'm not one of His servants. Besides, it's just a matter of a few minutes under the moon to bless water in Sehanine's name."

"I'm not sure whether to think of you as brave, or insane," Aribeth whispered, smiling. Hearing Linu, she nodded, then called, "I think I understand, Linu. Thank you for being so considerate."

Linu babbled incoherently, backed away from the table, and tripped over an acolyte. As she and the acolyte vanished behind the table, the sound of broken glass drifted up, followed moments later by the smell of burning fabric. While priests and acolytes ran about, frantically attempting to douse the flames with water, Fred let out a soft groan, opened his pack and dug around in it, then scattered a bag of white powder over the burning Linu. With a muffled 'whump,' the fire went out. He turned his back on the carnage and quietly closed up his pack, while the priests applied healing spells to Linu and the injured acolyte.

"What was that?" Aribeth asked, indicating the empty bag from which the white powder had come. "I've never seen anything short of a spell put out magical fire before."

"This?" Fred shrugged. "Baking soda. Never leave home without it."

"Baking soda?" Aribeth asked, an eyebrow arching as if in disbelief.

"Yup," Fred said. "Good for everything from baking cakes to brushing teeth. And, as you just saw, it makes a great fire extinguisher. Problem is, if you're not a dwarf, it's damned awful expensive. Luckily, I made friends with a dwarf who lets me buy small quantities from him. Looks like I'll have to visit him before we head back to the Peninsula, too."

"You buy it from a dwarf?" Aribeth shook her head. "Dwarves aren't exactly known for their baking."

"But they  **are**  known for their mining," Fred laughed.

_What? You don't know what baking soda is, either? Elminster? Huh. Figures. Arm & Hammer, even. For the rest of you, baking soda is known by the dwarves as soda ash. Mostly, they use it to make glass, neutralize acids, put out fires, descale cauldrons...lots of industrial uses, mostly. Anyway, where was I? Oh yeah, Linu had fallen on her potions bag and smashed them all, and the resulting fire when the potions mixed together had nearly killed her and an acolyte. So, after the temple priests healed them, we replaced the lost potions – and the other things we'd lost in the fire – and decided to wait until the next day to go back. At least, by then, we knew a back way into the prison. It made getting down to where the intellect devourer was just a little bit simpler. The only thing I regret from that fight was that we couldn't wake up all the guards it had dominated. They didn't deserve to die the way they did._

_Huh? Oh. Sorry. I was just thinking about those guards, and saying a prayer for their souls. And I was thinking about how their situation was reminiscent of Aribeth's. Isn't that why you all want me to ramble on like this? So you can understand why I believe Aribeth is innocent – believe it enough to be here in the Dales, with her in tow? Speaking of which... Elminster, can you tell me that you're certain she's not dreaming, or suffering in any other way, while you have her in stasis like that? OK. Thank you. I appreciate that._

_So anyway, I noticed, while I was running around Neverwinter hunting those damned creatures, and having evidence of a conspiracy drop into my lap every so often...Yes, I **do**  mean it that way. I mean, those cultists were such idiots that they actually carried written letters from their superiors with them when they attempted to assassinate me. So when I killed them, I had evidence that there  **was**  a conspiracy dedicated to making the Plague worse, even if it hadn't created it, and that there was someone high up in the conspiracy – high enough to be sending out cultists as assassins, anyway – who was privy to our attempts to resolve it. Naturally, given my dislike for him and my gut feeling of being unable to trust him, I suspected Desther of being involved somehow. Unfortunately, none of the evidence that I did get pointed conclusively at him. The only thing I  **could**  point at was his continual rejection of the evidence I  **did**  gather, his continual insistence that we give up all attempts to find the components for the cure, and his constant whispering in Fenthick's ears, which I'm sure wore down any feeble resistance Fenthick might have put up in the first place. Sometimes I wonder what you would have seen if you'd tried to detect charms on the leadership of Neverwinter. Then again, given how powerful Morag was, she probably could have blocked any attempt like that, from anyone less powerful than a Chosen._

_So, by the time we got all the components of the cure together, it was pretty clear to me – and, from what she told me later, to Aribeth – that the one person who best fit the mold of our hidden conspirator was Desther. Unfortunately, since none of the letters I'd retrieved gave any names, and since I had already given them to Fenthick, she had no way to use them to convince anyone in authority that there was a problem. Still, it **did**  mean that when Desther threw off his mask and stole the cure, she wasn't caught by surprise the way Fenthick and Nasher were. OK, fine,  **Lord**  Nasher. Not that he did anything to convince me he  **deserves**  the title. Unfortunately, since Desther's false Helmites had killed the priests who were helping in the ritual, Aribeth was the only one there able to keep his portal from collapsing after he jumped through it. One of these days, I'm going to have to get her to teach me that trick. Or maybe not. She was unconscious for nearly two days after I got back, so she wasn't able to speak in Fenthick's support at his so-called 'trial' – not, I suspect, that she'd have been allowed to do so even if she  **had**  been awake._

"Aribeth?" Fred called, standing in the door to her quarters. From the doorway, her chambers looked remarkably bare. In fact, he saw all of three things that looked even vaguely personal: a charcoal sketch of Aribeth and Fenthick at an outdoor café, tacked up on the wall near the door; a stuffed stag with a silly expression, laying on the floor near a chest; and an old, dried, woven crown of flowers, sitting on the window ledge.

"Go away!" Aribeth screamed from her sleeping area. "Go away, go away, goawaygoawaygoaway!"

"Ah, shit," Fred muttered, and did the exact opposite of what Aribeth had demanded. He sat on the edge of the bed, where Aribeth was curled up around her pillow, facing away from him as she lay and sobbed broken-heartedly. After a minute, he placed a hand on her arm and softly said, "I'm not going to let you go, Aribeth. I don't abandon my friends like that."

"But you have to!" Aribeth sobbed. "If you don't, you'll die, too!"

"And this is a problem...exactly how?" Fred shot back with a smile. He regretted it a moment later, as Aribeth turned on him and began beating on his chest in a wild, frantic flailing of fists.

"You'll die, too!" Aribeth wailed. "I can't lose you, too! How could he? Why did he do it? Why?"

Not knowing what else to do, Fred wrapped his arms around Aribeth and held her until she fell into a fitful, emotionally drained sleep. When he attempted to slip away, she clutched him with a death grip. Rather than wake her, he sighed softly and tried to find a comfortable position in which to wait until she woke. It wasn't long before he, too, fell asleep.

_Fred Dreamed...  
Neverwinter was burning around him. All the friends he had made among the city – the dwarven smith from whom he bought his soda ash, the innkeeper who had been forced to close his sidewalk café when the Plague got too bad, the bookseller who always seemed to have just one more volume he hadn't seen before – all of them, and more besides, were dead, slaughtered by an invading army. Fred did not know the army, but it used giants as siege engines, undead as shock troops, and above them all was Aribeth, laughing the laugh of a stereotypical Evil Overlord. Fred fought his way through the streets, searching for Aribeth, following the sounds of the laughter. As he searched, he became aware of an unseen presence – one that seemed to be amused by his search; one that taunted him with every step he took._

_"She is mine now, foolish warmling. You would do well to surrender and pray that she grants you mercy."_

_"You don't know me very well, whoever you are," Fred snarled. As if rent asunder by his anger, the image of the city parted, and he saw Aribeth, standing amid the flames, looking around herself as if lost and bewildered. "I **never**  surrender. I'm what you call bull-headed. I may lose, but I  **always**  go down fighting. Especially when it comes to my friends. Especially..."_

_Fred saw the look of hopelessness in Aribeth's eyes and felt his heart breaking. He ran to her side, sword in hand, just a moment too late to disarm her – a moment too late to stop her from plunging her own sword into her breast. He caught her body as she fell, and knelt, holding her in his arms, as he screamed, "NO!"_

"Fred? Fred?" Fred woke to the sensation of Aribeth shaking him. He slowly focused on her face, saw the worry in her eyes, and attempted a weak smile.

"I'm...I'm ok...I think," Fred said softly. "You?"

"I...I don't think I shall ever be 'ok' again," Aribeth whispered. Fred pushed himself up into a sitting position, then offered her his hands. She looked from his hands to his eyes, then back again, and said softly, "I can't, Fred. I...it's too soon, hurts too much."

"You...huh?" Fred asked, confused. "You can't let a friend share your pain? That's not right. What kind of crap do they teach you, anyway?"

"Oh," Aribeth whispered, her cheeks reddening as she looked down, then leaned against him. "I'm sorry. I thought...it's not important."

"Hey," Fred said softly, while squeezing her gently, "if it bothers you, it's important. Don't ever put yourself down like that. I could get cranky."

"And we wouldn't want that, would we?" Aribeth said, smiling weakly.

"Of course not," Fred said, returning the smile. "I might tell certain noblemen what I  **really**  think of them, and that could lead to your favorite paladin being exiled from Neverwinter."

For a moment, Aribeth's eyes flashed from sudden anger, to sadness, to fear, before she forced down her emotions and said, in a tone that Fred would have taken for teasing if he hadn't seen the emotions in her eyes, "Oh, I don't know. It's not as if..." She trailed off, then whispered, "How could he? Why?"

"How could he?" Fred asked, momentarily confused. "Oh! Let's see...Desther could because he was an evil fuck...Fenthick could because...wait...that doesn't make sense. What rank priest was he?"

"High enough that he could act on Lord Nasher's behalf, but not high enough to be assigned a temple of his own. Why?"

"Can  **anyone**  rise that high in the ranks as a priest, and still be as naïve as he appeared to be?"

"Naïve?" Aribeth asked. "What do you mean?"

"When I found him in Helm's Hold," Fred said, oblivious to the way her knuckles were whitening with the intensity of her grip on the sheets, "he repeatedly insisted that it all had to be a mistake, that all he had to do was find Desther and everything would be ok. He actually still believed that Desther was one of the  **good**  guys, and that all the murders at Helm's Hold, all the deaths at the creation of the cure, even Desther's little trick of stealing the cure and fleeing through that portal, was just a matter of the rest of us not understanding that Desther's intentions were purely for our best interests. Now, I know Fenthick was  **not**  an evil fuck like Desther. Hell, he was one of the most pure-hearted people I have ever met. That means that either he was too naïve to be a priest, he was insane, or someone was messing with his mind. Given the dream I just had, I vote for mind control." Fred frowned and hissed angrily, "Hell, I voted for mind control from the start, but I'm just an adventurer. I can't possibly understand the greater implications of things. I got your 'greater implications' right here."

"So," Aribeth asked softly, "You told Lord Nasher that you believed Fenthick had been...mind controlled?"

"In no uncertain terms," Fred said. "Loudly. Repeatedly. Until he had one of the temple priests gag and bind me so I couldn't interrupt his 'trial'. I swear, if it weren't for people I know and love here, I'd tell Nasher to take his city and cram it up the same orifice his head is so firmly planted in."

"Cram...it...up..." Aribeth began to giggle. "You have...a way...with words." She kissed his cheek gently and whispered, "Thank you. You can't imagine how much you've helped."

_Look, do you all mind if we take a break? My throat's raw, I'm exhausted, and I need to check on Aribeth._

_All right, let me put it another way. The fact that you have Aribeth in stasis is the **only**  thing keeping me here. I am  **going**  to check on her, and there is not a power on Toril to stop me. You can either accept that gracefully, or you can contemplate what it would be like for a paladin to start looking at you the way he looks at the undead. Because, as far as I'm concerned, if you come between me and her, you're no better._

Fred stopped inside the entrance to the Shadowdale dungeon and watched, curious, as three guards, on their knees, scrubbed at the stones and bench around Aribeth. One guard, who was not a part of the cleaning crew, saw him standing in the doorway and scrambled to greet him.

"Sorry, sir. Don't worry, sir. We'll have everything cleaned up right away, sir. Please tell Elminster nobody meant nothing by it. Honest!"

Fred looked into the cell Aribeth sat in, frozen in time, and nodded slowly as he considered what could have set the guards to cleaning like that. He turned to the guard and smiled, showing lots of teeth.

"Tell me...do you see the symbol worked into my armor?"

"Uh...yes, sir?"

"Do you recognize whose symbol it is?"

"Uh...Kelemvor's, sir?"

"That's right. Kelemvor's. Do you know why this is important to you?"

"Uh...no, sir?"

"I'll give you a hint. The lady in that cell is my beloved. And I am Kelemvor's Champion."

The guard swallowed. Hard. Fred smiled at him, once again, showing lots of teeth.

"You might want to tell your friends, if you take my meaning."

The guard let out a faint squeak and scurried across the dungeon to whisper to the other guards. Fred watched them and quietly waited, having already settled on the largest of the bunch – a half-orc – as the one most likely to be a problem. Sure enough, the one he'd guessed stomped across the dungeon and stopped in front of him, close enough that Fred could smell what he'd had for lunch on his breath. Fred waited, while the guard stared down at him, fuming. After a minute, the guard spoke.

"You actually love that...that... **betrayer**?" The guard demanded.

Fred looked up at the guard thoughtfully for a moment, then said, "With all my heart."

"But you're a paladin! How can you love something like that without falling?"

"Well now," Fred answered, smiling, "you might want to consider the implications of that question, wouldn't you say? If my god does not punish me for my love for Aribeth, what does that say about her?"

"But, everyone knows she's a betrayer!" The guard looked as if trying to comprehend what Fred had said was giving him a headache.

"And how is it that 'everyone knows' that?" Fred asked trying hard to contain his enjoyment of the torment he was putting these guards through.

"Eh...the news from Neverwinter is all full of it," another guard – this one, human – said. "Lord Nasher ordered her executed for her crimes. He also ordered the deaths of anyone who assisted her in escaping his justice."

This was the part Fred had been worried about. The half-orc made a grab for him, while the other guards drew their swords. Fred muttered a soft curse and swung his shield around, but kept his sword in its sheath, across his back. The half-orc got a grip on Fred's arm, and began pulling him closer. Fred swung his shield, edge-first, against the half-orc's arm. The half-orc let out a yelp and lost his grip, giving Fred the chance he needed to shift into the clear space in the middle of the room.

With a yell, the guards charged. Fred caught the first one's sword on his shield, and the room was filled with a flash of light as that guard flew several feet backwards and fell to the floor. The other guards stopped their attack for a moment, then the half-orc charged, screaming a battle cry, his hands gripping one of the largest axes Fred had ever seen.

"This is going to hurt," Fred thought, as he prepared to block the axe.

Just inches from contact with the shield, the axe – as well as everything else in the room – stopped. A moment later, Elminster walked among the combatants, followed by Azalar Falconhand and two of his personal guard.

"Using magic in a place such as this is bound to get attention, if you take my meaning," Elminster said. "Now, why would one of ye do something so foolish?"

It was quickly apparent that the paralysis did not extend to voices, as the guards all stumbled over each other in spewing accusations against Fred. Knowing he wouldn't even be heard over them, Fred simply waited. After a minute or two of the guards' accusations, their tales growing ever wilder with each telling, Elminster cut them off with a sharp jerk of his hand. Then he looked at Fred, his gaze seeming to bore into him like a drill. When Fred seemed to be uninclined to speak, Elminster finally said, "Well?"

"I'm afraid this  **was**  my fault," Fred said. "I told them that Aribeth is my beloved, and one of them remembered that Nasher not only ordered her death, but also the deaths of any accomplices she might have. Since they couldn't harm  **her** , I guess they were hoping for the consolation prize."

"And the magic?"

"That would be my shield. One of them got a good solid hit, and the shield knocked him back across the room." Fred attempted to shrug, forgetting that his body was frozen in place.

Elminster turned to Falconhand and nodded. "He alone speaks the truth." He rapped his staff on the floor, and a globe appeared in mid-air, replaying the events of the last few minutes.

After watching the replay, Falconhand frowned at Fred. "Teasing guards, no matter how justified, is never good practice."

"It would have been rude to kill them," Fred said. "Besides, it looked as if the magic around Aribeth was punishing them for throwing filth at her. Honestly, I hoped that a little healthy fear would ensure that there was no repeat of what I saw when I arrived."

"It would have been rude...," Falconhand said slowly, staring at Fred as if he'd sprouted another head.

"Well, yeah," Fred said. "I mean, what would you do if you caught some random thug throwing dung on your wife?"

"I'd run him through!" Falconhand exclaimed, not noticing the guards blanching behind him.

"I think he's made his point," Elminster said "And ye should be thankful he didn't want to be ...rude."

"But why 'rude'?" Falconhand asked.

"When we arrived, you could have simply executed us," Fred said. "We would have gone down fighting, of course, and taken a number of your soldiers with us, but in the end, we would have died. You chose not to do that. Therefore, I owe you the courtesy of doing my best to keep the peace, regardless of provocations from your guards, soldiers, or whoever. Simply drawing my sword and eliminating the problem would not be showing you the same courtesy you showed us. It seems to me, that would be rude."

"That's an interesting line of reasoning," Falconhand said, "but I think I'll be grateful you think that way." He turned to the elder of his personal guard, and said, "Make sure every single person in the Dale knows that Lord Nasher's orders of execution for these two are void. From this moment forward, Lady Aribeth de Tylmarande and Lord Fred MacManus are citizens of Shadowdale."

"Thank you," Fred said softly. "We're tired...we've been running for almost three years, and you are the first people we've met who actually wanted to know what happened."

"And we still do," Falconhand said. "I'll expect to see you and Lady Aribeth tomorrow, to continue your story. Elminster, would you?"

"Aye," Elminster said. A quick slash of his hand freed Aribeth from her stasis. She looked around, blinking with confusion, until she saw Fred, still frozen in position, across the dungeon.

"Fred?" Aribeth called out, rising to her feet and crossing the dungeon to his side. Elminster humphed and snapped his fingers, releasing Fred and the guards. No sooner was he free, than they were in each other's arms.

"It's ok, beloved," Fred said softly. "Lord Falconhand has just made us citizens of Shadowdale."

Aribeth slipped out of Fred's arms, turned to face Falconhand, and curtseyed to him. "Thank you, my lord. You can not imagine how much this means to us."

"I hope to," Falconhand said, smiling warmly. "I have already told Lord Fred that I expect to see both of you tomorrow, so he can continue his story."

The guards attempted to slip quietly out of the dungeon, only to freeze in place at a glare from one of Falconhand's guards. Falconhand looked at them and let out a heavy sigh. "I suppose I have to deal with this now. Why don't you two go use one of the guest chambers for now? Mmm...Thorvald, you can handle getting them settled in, yes? Consider yourselves my guests until you find a place of your own."

One of Falconhand's personal guards nodded to him, then moved to join Aribeth and Fred. Finding a suitable guest suite for the couple took only a few minutes, and the two were soon alone, with a table full of food in front of them.

"Thank goodness Thorvald remembered we hadn't eaten," Aribeth said as she cut slices of cheese to go with the bread Fred was cutting.

"I'll say," Fred agreed. "I was on the verge of going out to get us some fresh mutton, but I doubt that would have made a good impression."

"You  **hate**  mutton!" Aribeth laughed. She leaned against him and absently cut an apple into wedges, while Fred put the cheese she had sliced onto the bread he had sliced. "So, what did you do to convince Lord Falconhand to make us citizens of Shadowdale?"

"Hell if I know," Fred said, while absently arranging the bread and cheese on the plate in front of them. "All I was trying to do was make him and Elminster understand why you aren't the villain Nasher wants you to be."

"And the story he mentioned?" Aribeth reached out and took one of the bread and cheese slices, knocking the others out of line as she did. She giggled softly as Fred immediately began re-sorting them into neat rows.

"Oh," Fred said, with a shrug. "I was telling them the story of the Plague, and how we ended it. I'd gotten as far as that first time I ever told you that Nasher could take his city and cram it up his ass."

"Oh," Aribeth said softly. She put her bread down, huddled against Fred, and whispered, "Hold me? Please?"

"Always, beloved," Fred whispered, as he drew her into his lap and cradled her in his arms. "Always."


	2. Chapter 2

_"Have you ever been to Port Llast?" Fred asked. When both Elminster and Falconhand responded in the negative, Fred nodded. "I thought as much. Apparently, it was something to see, a thousand years ago. Now, it's so small that when our band set up camp there, we added a noticeable chunk to the population. When you travel around town, you can see ruins scattered among the farms and fields, where it used to be a city as large as Shadowdale. Now...if not for the harbor and the quarries, there'd be nothing there."_

_"I don't remember much from our time there," Aribeth said softly. "What I do remember is...well, flashes, I guess you'd say. Like the images that you get when lightning strikes on a stormy night, overwhelming your vision so you can't see anything else. I remember arguing with Fred. I remember waking in the night, my throat raw and the servants watching from my doorway, as if I were possessed. Mostly, though, I remember rage and despair, and the certainty that I had been cast out by Tyr."_

_"Why were you so certain?" Falconhand asked._

_"It was the dreams," Aribeth said, shuddering. Fred slipped an arm around her and drew her close, shifting so she could easily rest against him. "I prayed every day for Tyr's guidance – for some sign that His justice was not a hollow promise, some way to find my way back to Him, despite my anger at the injustice done in His name."_

_"In his name?"_

_"Yes," Fred said. "When Nasher hung Fenthick, the Temple in Neverwinter supported his judgment. The high priest declared that Fenthick had surely been involved in Desther's conspiracy, and even if he had not been, justice required that he pay with his life for all those lives that had been lost because he had supported Desther and his false Helmites."_

_"And this was after you had raised the possibility Fenthick's mind was not his own?" Storm Silverhand asked, a look of disgust on her face._

_"Oh yes," Fred said. "In fact, it was the high priest who gagged me during Fenthick's 'trial', so I couldn't raise anything that might question their pre-ordained verdict. So, you can see why I thought going to Port Llast would be a good thing. It would get Aribeth away from those bastards in Neverwinter, and it would keep them out of my reach."_

_"Yes, I do," Storm said. "Given what happened afterwards, I take it that just wasn't enough."_

_"We didn't realize how powerful Morag was," Fred said. "For that matter, I had forgotten the demonstration of her power that I had seen in my Dream. I still think, if I hadn't forgotten, I might have been able to do something to protect Aribeth."_

_"And I still say you are too hard on yourself, beloved," Aribeth said. "Morag's power was great enough that she could get away with impersonating a god."_

_"Not a good enough excuse," Fred growled. "She hurt you."_

_Aribeth smiled and gently kissed Fred's cheek. "I know, beloved. I've seen it in our time together. It's part of what makes you so easy to love."_

_Aribeth looked at those gathered in Falconhand's privy chambers and sighed softly, then said, with a teasing smile in Fred's direction, "I suppose I should start this part of the story, while my love gathers his wits and remembers that he already killed Morag once, so he can't kill her again."_

_**Aribeth:**  We had just moved into the militia barracks in Port Llast, when I received orders from Lord Nasher that I would be working directly with Arin Gend. Now, I'd worked with him before, but only in terms of taking the information he gathered and using it to determine where to deploy my troops. To be working directly with him – each one of us second-guessing the other – seemed to me to be an insult to both our abilities._

"ARG! That man is  **infuriating**!" Aribeth growled as she threw her traveling kit at her bed. "How does he expect  **any**  kind of results under these circumstances?"

"I quite agree," Aarin Gend said from the doorway. "Therefore, I suggest a solution you may appreciate."

"You!" Aribeth snapped, spinning to face Aarin. She paused as his words sank in. "You...agree? All right. You've always been one of the most reliable people I've worked with. Let's hear your idea."

"We simply do as we always have," Aarin said. "I send out agents to find the information you need to make plans. You use the information my agents gather, and make whatever plans are necessary to our success."

"You've done it again," Aribeth said, smiling. "I should have known I could count on you to see a way to make this work."

"Honestly," Aarin said, "I'm surprised you didn't think of it." He shook his head and muttered, "It still bothers me that so many people are going to know my face after this."

I...," Aribeth started, faltered, then started again. "I haven't entirely been myself lately, Aarin. Ever since Lord Nasher murdered Fenthick..."

"I know," Aarin said gently. "Under normal circumstances, the evidence used to hang Fenthick would only have been enough to have him sacked. Something about that whole situation was not right. But we have the people of Neverwinter to think of, regardless of the actions of Lord Nasher."

"Yes," Aribeth said, turning away from Aarin to unpack her kit. "The people of Neverwinter."

_**Fred:**  This is where I come in. When I got to Port Llast, I assumed I'd be working with Aribeth, the way I had in Neverwinter. When she introduced me to Aarin, I was...shall we say, less than amused?_

"Let me see if I have this right," Fred said, looking between Aribeth and Aarin. "You've been sidelined, and I have to report to someone I neither know nor trust?"

"I don't know what 'sidelined' means," Aribeth said, "but, yes, you will be reporting to Aarin. He will analyze whatever information you gather, and out of it, he'll assemble reports that I'll be using to determine our next move."

Fred opened his mouth, as if to say something, then closed it, then visibly deflated. "Oh. Why didn't you say so in the first place? That makes perfect sense."

"Is he always like this," Aarin asked Aribeth quietly.

"Only when he's being overprotective," Aribeth quietly replied. "He seems to have decided it's his job to protect me."

"To...protect...you?" Aarin asked, as if in disbelief, then began laughing.

"Eh?" Fred asked, confused. "What's the joke?"

"Fred, let me tell you some things," Aarin said, draping an arm over Fred's shoulders. "I remember the first time I met Aribeth..."

_**Fred:**  By the time Aarin was done telling me stories about things he and Aribeth had done, I knew that he wouldn't do anything of his own will to hurt her. That was good enough for me. I'd like to think we became, if not friends, at least friendly teammates, while we were there. I know that Aarin was watching over Aribeth, too. The first time I got back from one of my field missions, he ordered me to take a few days before I went back out. Then he told me that he was worried about Aribeth's sleep – or lack thereof._

"It's worrying me, Fred," Aarin said. "Every night since you left on your assignment, she's woken, usually just a couple hours after going to bed, screaming like an army of demons had invaded her room. The first couple of nights, half the barracks jammed themselves in the doorway, rushing to her defense. Now, Kendrack has taken to suggesting we move her into one of the abandoned houses in the area, so his men can get some sleep."

"Do you have any idea what's causing it?" Fred asked, worried.

"I wish I did," Aarin said. "All I can do is guess that she's being bedeviled in her dreams. But what's doing it, I have no idea."

"Damn." Fred pinched the bridge of his nose. "I'll see what I can do. If it comes to that, there  **is**  a house we can move her into. After we clean the werewolf stench out of it, anyway. I don't believe she should be alone, but I understand Kendrack's reasoning. If his men don't get enough sleep, they can't defend the town the way they should, and that leaves it open for invasion. Anyway, I'm going to find Aribeth."

"She's in her room," Aarin said. "I just had reports from my other operatives delivered to her. They'll keep her busy for the rest of the day, at least. Maybe into tomorrow, too, if we're lucky."

"If we're lucky?"

"Yes." Aarin shook his head sadly. "When she's not busy with work, she spends her time either on her knees in the temple, or stalking about like she's expecting something to leap on her from every shadow. We've already had to pay the innkeeper for a bag of flour she smote when it fell off the wagon that was carrying it from the harbor to the inn."

"She...smote...a bag of flour?" Fred asked, incredulously. "OK, she's in worse shape than I'd imagined from what you said."

"Good luck, Fred," Aarin said. "And, thank you."

Fred found Aribeth, not in her room as Aarin had thought, but in the temple, sobbing brokenly as she knelt, resting her forehead on the edge of the altar. He knelt beside her and simply kept watch with her for several minutes. When her tears did not appear to be ending, he sighed and closed his eyes.

"Tyr," Fred prayed, "I know I'm not one of your servants. Honestly, from what I've seen of your servants, I wouldn't particularly  **want**  to be one. But look at Aribeth. She  **is**  one of your servants. So why are you letting her suffer like this? Is it some kind of twisted test? Some kind of punishment for daring to love Fenthick? Are you trying to teach her that justice is not only blind, it's deaf, dumb, and incompetent, too? Have you thrown her out like garbage? Just why are you letting her suffer like this? It doesn't make any sense!"

"It's none of the above, Fred," Kelemvor said. "Tyr has been trying..."

Kelemvor's voice faded out, as if he were speaking from a very great distance, and the distance had suddenly gotten much greater.

"Father?" Fred called. "I can't hear you! Father!"

"It's happened to you, too?" Aribeth asked, rubbing at her cheeks with the palm of her hand. "Kelemvor doesn't answer you?"

"He answered," Fred said, "but then His voice faded away while He was talking. I don't understand it."

"At least you got something," Aribeth said sadly. She leaned against him and whispered, "I'm so tired, Fred. I..."

"Has your sleep really been that bad, Ari?"

"It has..." Aribeth started, then she sat up and glared at Fred. "Wait a minute! Did Aarin send you? He won't let up on me, just because I'm having some bad dreams!"

"Look at me," Fred said, gently reaching up to touch Aribeth's cheek. "I don't need Aarin to send me to you, not when I can sense that you are in pain. If I could, I would take your pain on myself, Ari. You know that, don't you?"

"I..." Aribeth started. Looking into Fred's eyes, she sighed and sank down against him. "I know. I just...I don't know what' s real and what isn't any more. At least I can count on you. Even Tyr has turned His back on me."

"Why do you say that? Kelemvor was saying that Tyr was trying, when I couldn't hear Him any more. I don't know what Tyr is trying, but whatever it is, I doubt that it involves turning His back on you."

"I've seen it," Aribeth said, huddling against Fred and crying softly. "In my dreams. I pray for justice, for understanding, for just a simple sign. And every time, Tyr just looks at me, then turns away, rejecting me."

"I can't believe that's Tyr," Fred said, while gently stroking Aribeth's hair. "Honestly, Ari. You have been nothing, if not faithful and devoted. Even when justice was perverted, you continued to hold on to your faith, to turn to Tyr. A god would have to be insane to reject that kind of devotion and faith."

"But," Aribeth said sadly, "It's happening. You know how you can tell the difference between an ordinary dream and one that was sent by your god?"

"Oy, do I ever," Fred said. "I  **hate**  Dreams. They're  **always**  a sign of  **something**  that'll mess up your life."

"These dreams, they're not just ordinary dreams, Fred. They were sent to me."

"Then they had to have been sent by an enemy, Ari. They can't have come from Tyr."

"But," Aribeth looked up at Fred, her eyes filled with hopelessness, "if that's the case, then Tyr has already rejected me. I'm a paladin, Fred. If Tyr were still my strength, then this enemy couldn't penetrate my dreams."

Fred sighed and hugged Aribeth close. "There has to be another answer, Ari. And I'll find it, no matter what it takes. For now...for the next few days...I'm going to be at your side, no matter what. Until Aarin sends me out on my next assignment, you're just going to have to put up with a crazy human who refuses to give up on you or let go of you, no matter what."

"I...I think I like that idea," Aribeth said, her gaze dropping and her cheeks going red. "Promise you'll stay with me, Fred? Always?"

"I promise, Ari," Fred said gently. He brushed her hair back from her face and looked into her eyes. "I, Fred MacManus, promise, in the presence of Tyr and Kelemvor, that as long as you will have me, I will always be at your side"

Aribeth let out a happy sob and threw her arms around Fred, then sat back and took a ring off her finger. "I know it's not much, but...would you take this ring as a token of my promise to you?"

Fred covered her hand with his own, taking the ring, as he said gently, "I would be honored, Ari." He slipped the ring on his smallest finger and whispered, "With this ring, I thee wed..."

Aribeth blushed at Fred's whisper, but remained silent for a few moments, simply resting against him, before softly saying, "Maybe we should go for a walk, before we upset the priests."

Neurik smiled indulgently at Aribeth and Fred as they stepped into the portal that led back to Port Llast.

* * *

Storm coughed, then asked, "Aribeth, how long did those nightmares go on?"

Aribeth thought for a minute, then turned to Fred. "When did I go to Luskan?"

"Hmmm..., " Fred mused, mentally calculating. "I'd say we were in Port Llast for...almost four months, maybe? At least, that's how long it was before we confirmed that Maugrim was in Luskan and we started our infiltration."

"There you have it," Aribeth said. "About four months."

"And you were having those nightmares every night?" Storm asked, appalled. "How did you maintain your sanity?"

"I didn't," Aribeth said, then looked down at her hands. "By the end, I didn't even know what day it was. I just knew that Tyr had rejected me, that Neverwinter had perverted everything I believed in, and that the only chance I had to set things right was to join forces with Maugrim to punish those who had made me what I had become."

Fred took Aribeth's hand and gently squeezed. She leaned against him and sobbed softly.

Storm rose from her chair and swept forward, embraced Aribeth, and gently brushed her hair back with one hand. "Do you realize how strong you had to have been to endure that for so long? Most people – for that matter, most  **paladins**  – would have broken within weeks, if not days. That you kept fighting for nearly four months tells me that you are one of the strongest people I will ever have the privilege of knowing."

"I...didn't do it alone," Aribeth said. "If Fred had not been with me, I couldn't have lasted as long as I did."

"So being married to him was more than just an expression of your love," Storm said. "It strengthened you, too."

"Oh!" Aribeth said, blushing deeply. "We're not married! Not that we don't  **want**  to be, but...we just haven't ever had the chance to have a proper ceremony."

Storm laughed and looked over to where a priest from the new Temple of Lathander sat. "Ingmir, what do you have to say about that?"

"I'd like to know where Lord Fred came up with the words to the vow he gave," Ingmir said, leaning forward intently. "It's an old vow that I haven't even seen reference to, save in some of my training as an acolyte."

"So you thought the same as I did, then?"

"Assuredly. These two have been married since that day, but apparently didn't know it."

"Not entirely true," Elminster pointed out, "else he would not have responded to her gift of her ring as he did."

Aribeth looked down at Fred's hand, on which that ring still rested, then to her own hand, where a matching ring could be found, then looked at Ingmir hopefully. "You mean, we  **are** properly married?"

"As properly as I could do," Ingmir said, "although I dare say you  **could**  have a public ceremony, if you so desire."

"We so desire," Fred said, squeezing Aribeth's hand gently. "I want to repeat my vow in the presence of anyone who is willing to hear it." He gave Aribeth an adoring gaze and added, "I want to tell the world that this woman is the one I choose to devote my heart to."

"All right," Elminster grumbled. "If you're going to talk romance, I may as well go back to my tower. I have better things to do than waste my time with the foolishness of youth."

"Don't give me that line, old man," Storm chided, poking Elminster in the chest with a fingertip. "I know you're just as interested as the rest of us, so stop complaining. Or I may just tell Alassra you need more time away from your books."

"Ye're not too old for me to put over my knee," Elminster grumbled at Storm. "Not that it would do any good."

"All right, you two," Falconhand said, "we came here to hear their story, not listen to the two of you pick at each other."

"Don't worry, Azalar," Storm said, smiling. "I want to hear more of their story, too."

Elminster grumbled into his beard and took out his pipe.

"Damn," Fred said suddenly. "I left the one you loaned me back in our chambers. Do you mind if I get it back to you later?"

"Keep it, lad," Elminster said. "Ye'll find it does more than merely annoy your wife. If ye know how to tap its secrets, that is."

"I see." Fred's eyes lit up, and Aribeth groaned quietly.

"Why the groan?" Storm asked.

"I see that look in his eyes," Aribeth said. "That means I'm going to spend the next few weeks watching him get himself fried, electrocuted, trampled, or otherwise injured, as he tries to decipher this puzzle Elminster gave him."

"Just goes to show the lad has the right bent of mind to be a good wizard," Elminster said. "And, no, I did  **not**  offer to take him on as an apprentice."

"The  **story** , people?" Falconhand prodded.

"Yes, the story," Aribeth said. "An excellent idea."

_**Aribeth:**  I honestly don't remember much from the time Fred brought the information that lead us to Luskan, until the time I was standing on the roof of the Arcane Brotherhood's tower, going through Morag's ritual. The first thing I clearly remember was seeing Fred in the distance and realizing that I had destroyed any hope I ever had of returning to him._

Aribeth stood on the roof of the Host Tower, surrounded by beings that called themselves "Creators" – beings that Maugrim had explained were of the same race as her new goddess, Morag. Tyr may have rejected her, Neverwinter may have betrayed her, but Morag had gathered her in, had sheltered and soothed her aching heart, had restored her faith in something greater than herself. Her only regret was that Fred was not with her, but Maugrim had assured her that it was better this way – that Fred also had betrayed her at the last, and was even now hunting her at the behest of that villainous beast, Nasher. A small tickle of uncertainty moved at the back of her mind at that, yet the visions Morag had shown her had confirmed what Maugrim had said, and she knew Morag would not lie to her – not after all she had done to restore her from the shattered state she had been in.

Even now, Aribeth could feel Morag's presence in her mind, soothing her and wiping away her uncertainties and questions in a way Tyr had never done. It was as if Morag knew her doubts and questions before they arose, and wiped them away, so that Morag could more perfectly guide her in her quest for true justice against those who had thought that they could get away with murdering innocents in the name of 'justice'. They would all pay, from "Lord" Nasher all the way down to the meanest beggar who had cried out for Fenthick's blood. She would make sure of it – Morag had promised it, and Aribeth knew, without a doubt, that she would deliver.

_**Fred:**  Linu and I were incredibly lucky. The Host Tower was mostly empty – acolytes, apprentices, and a few low-powered mages made up most of what we ran into on our way up. A single lich near the top of the tower gave us the final keys we needed to reach the pinnacle. It was his way of giving Maugrim a "fuck you" as he left to gather enough power to retake the Host Tower from Maugrim's people._

The air around the pinnacle of the Host Tower crackled with energy. The wind whipped about Fred like a hurricane, and lightning surged, crackling and crashing with repeated claps of thunder. He couldn't remember having been in a storm like this since Camille, and he had only been a child then. Across the roof, beyond a fence with magically sealed gates, stood Aribeth, surrounded by what looked to Fred like several squads of those annoying self-proclaimed "Creators". Still, none of them appeared to have any serious weaponry, and he had a few surprises up his sleeves – literally – so he didn't see any problem with taking them out.

"Aribeth!" Fred yelled. The wind and thunder made it impossible for Fred to hear his own voice, let alone hope that it would carry to Aribeth. He nodded to Linu, and the two crossed the roof toward Aribeth and the lizards, leaning forward until it felt as if they were climbing a cliff in their struggle to remain standing against the force of the wind.

Fred and Linu were no more than fifty feet from the fence when the howling of the wind suddenly ceased, and the sounds of voices carried across the roof to them.

"Do you renounce your false god of justice, Aribeth de Tylmarande?" Maugrim asked. It sounded to Fred like part of some sort of scripted ritual. "Do you renounce your god, your lord and your people who have betrayed you?"

"I... I do," Aribeth replied, her voice shaky, even uncertain. Fred felt a sinking feeling in his gut as he heard her speak and realized that the nightmares had finally broken her, despite his attempts to reinforce her strength of will during the times he had been with her, between his assignments.

"Will you lead our glorious army in the name of your new mistress?" Maugrim continued, as if Aribeth's answer had been delivered more surely. Now Fred was convinced he was performing a ritual – kind of like a ritual of conversion. No, not 'kind of like'...it  **was**  a ritual of conversion.

"I will," Aribeth said, the power of the ritual giving firmness and strength to her voice. "I will lead them."

"Then be the terrifying blackguard of our mistress Morag that you were meant to!" Maugrim exclaimed triumphantly. Aribeth's armor and sword crackled with energy – enough energy that even her hair flew wildly about her for a moment – and changed, not only in appearance, but also in essence, so that even from this distance, Fred could feel the evil in them.

"I shall!" Aribeth cried as the transformation ended. "Neverwinter will fall before our might!"

"Aribeth!" Fred screamed. Aribeth's head snapped around at his cry, and Fred's heart fell as he saw the look of hopelessness and betrayal in her eyes. It was as if she believed  **he**  had betrayed  **her**  somehow.

"Remember, Maugrim, that it is of great importance that the other Words of Power be located," the largest and most powerful-looking of the lizards said. "You must beware Haedraline, however, as she will – "

The lizard's head snapped around to glare directly at Fred.

"You have been lax, Maugrim. We have intruders." The lizard sounded angry as it berated Maugrim. "The Word of Power cannot fall into the hands of the enemy. Take Aribeth and leave now. I shall summon my own servants to deal with these... fools."

Maugrim grabbed Aribeth's arm and teleported away with her, leaving Fred with the image of Aribeth, staring at him with that look of hopelessness and betrayal. Moments later, the gates unlocked and sprang open, and the squads of lizards leapt to attack. Fred snapped his arms down, and a Wand of the Heavens dropped out of each sleeve into his hands. Linu saw the wands and nodded, then took up a position in front of Fred, ready to deal with any lizard that got too close for the wands. Fred began firing into the mass, calling down flamestrike after flamestrike. When the wands ran out of power, he tossed them aside and drew his sword, joining Linu in taking the fight to the remaining lizards in a much more personal manner.


	3. Chapter 3

"Friend warmblood! Friend warmblood!" The tiny voice in Fred's ear barely penetrated his slumber. He opened his eyes, just as a pair of tiny fangs pierced his earlobe and the voice cried again, with a distinctly frustrated tone, "Friend warmblood!"

"Ow!" Fred muttered. "OK, OK, I'm awake."

"Friend warmblood," the voice said, sounding now as if it were greatly relieved. "Warmbloods are outside your den. They disturb the webs of my family. They bring with them rotting meat that walks."

"Rotting meat that...undead." Fred growled. "Thank you, my friend. You should find a very small hole to hide in so you are not harmed in our battle."

"I hide now," the voice agreed. A moment later, a black widow scampered up a web-line to the ceiling, while Fred shook Aribeth awake.

"Necromancers at the door," he explained as he slid his feet into house slippers and grabbed his favorite bastard sword and shield from their rack beside the bed.

"At least it's something we don't have to hold back on," Aribeth teased, while covering herself with a chemise and picking up her swords. "Are you planning to awe them into submission, sweetheart?"

"Nope," Fred shot back, grinning wickedly. "I'm not Smiling Bob."

"Smiling who?" Aribeth asked Fred's back as he moved to open the bedroom door.

Just as Fred was stepping into the hallway, the sound of one of the traps on the front door detonating echoed up the stairs, followed by several cursing voices.

"I count six, love," Aribeth said softly.

"Ditto that," Fred agreed. "And who knows how many undead. Sonic trap should have weakened them some. Question is, will they trigger the holy water?"

"That's likely to depend on how cautious they are now that they've been hurt." Aribeth peered down the stairwell, then nodded to Fred as she began creeping ahead of him, crouched for battle, with both swords in ready positions.

Aribeth was half-way down the stairs, with Fred just a couple steps behind her, when the invaders began cursing again.

"Damn it, Kolzar! What good are your undead if a simple trap kills them?"

"Don't you damn me, Elgon! That trap had enough holy water in it to take a  **bath**  in!"

"Would you  **both**  shut up! They're going to hear us!"

"Too late," Aribeth announced as she leaped toward the intruders in her living room. "We already did."

_"Always leaping before she looks,"_  Fred thought fondly, then quickly threw a spell after Aribeth. Her swords were sheathed in blue fire as the spell took effect.

One of the invaders, a dwarf in heavy plate armor, raised an axe and charged to meet Aribeth. Meanwhile, a human in dark robes hurled a black orb at Fred. Fred threw up his shield, and the orb detonated as it struck, surrounding him in a field of black energy that felt as if he had been coated in molasses. Meanwhile, a bolt of lightning surged out of his shield, back along the path of the orb, to strike the wizard in the chest.

"Watch out!" another human, dressed in leather and moving out of the doorway to free up his bow, called out. "He has a Chaos Shield!"

Aribeth and the dwarf exchanged blows, her swords meeting his axe as she parried his attacks and searched for an opening in his defenses. The wizard, still twitching from the lightning bolt, cursed as his attempt to cast a spell failed. The archer, now clear of the congestion at the doorway, fired two arrows at Fred. The first skimmed past, not quite nicking his ear. The second struck his upper arm, leaving a small bruise as it bounced off. As he turned slowly toward the archer, Fred heard the sound of someone praying to Velsharoon. With an angry light in his eyes, he raised his head and let out a howl. A few moments later, an answering howl came from outside, and Fred grinned at those who dared to invade his home.

"Tear them up, Freki!" Fred called, as he forced his way through the magic slowing him. Outside, the howl changed to an ululation that sent the wizard fleeing into the house, dropping his bag of components as he ran. The sounds of running from outside told Fred that Freki's howl had worked its desired effect on those out there, as well.

"Why won't you just lay down and die!" the archer complained, while firing another shot at Fred, then tossing aside his bow and drawing a scimitar. The archer's shot clipped Fred's shield and bounced away, while Fred swung his sword, just barely missing the archer.

"If they just died, we couldn't have the fun of killing them," the dwarf said, while swinging his axe at Aribeth. Aribeth danced aside, then threw a spell at Fred. When it hit, he felt the molasses leaving his limbs, and he winked at her, before turning his attention back to the archer.

The dwarf, apparently convinced that Aribeth was distracted by her spellcasting, dropped his guard, raised his axe high for a full-power attack, and charged – right into the point of her longsword. His momentum drove him onto the blade, until the tip hit the back of his armor as it exited his body. He looked down at the blade, coughed up some blood, and raised his head, just in time to see her other blade sweeping in to decapitate him.

The archer, seeing Fred and Aribeth both turning their attention to him, threw down his scimitar and raised his hands, calling out, "I surrender! I surrender!"

"Watch him," Fred growled, as he stalked toward the door. "I heard a priest of Velsharoon outside."

"Leave enough to identify, love," Aribeth called after him as she moved to take charge of the archer and the cowering wizard.

Outside, two guardsmen had arrived from the Twisted Tower, and were battling several skeletal warriors. Freki stood over the body of an elf, his fur bristled as he growled at the priestess of Velsharoon, who was in the act of placing a gem into the mouth of one of her fallen comrades.

The guardsmen saw Fred exit the house, and one of them called, "You take care of the priestess! We can handle the skeletons!"

"Got it covered!" Fred called back, as he charged the priestess, his sword already in motion. "Freki! Make sure none of them escape!"

Freki gave a quick bark, then bounded off to circle the house, sniffing out tracks as he went.

The priestess looked up and scrambled away from the corpse she had been standing over, snatching up her staff as she backpedaled away from Fred's charge. She raised her staff defensively, then chanted a quick prayer in a language he didn't recognize, which exploded into a wall of black light that raced outward from her, fading just before it reached the guardsmen. The black light slammed into Fred like a sledgehammer, staggering him for a moment, as it enveloped the skeletons, healing the damage done to them by the guardsmen's weapons.

"That...hurt," Fred growled. He raised his sword and called out, "Kelemvor, grant me your favor!" His sword's glow brightened until it appeared as bright as sunlight, and he charged the priestess.

The priestess slammed the end of her staff into the ground, and a burst of black light raced outward. The light passed through Fred without harming him, but when it passed through the guardsmen, both fell to the ground instantly. The skeletons seemed almost invigorated by the power in the light.

"I have slain your minions," the priestess sneered, as she raised her staff. Fred snarled in wordless rage as he brought his sword down, cleaving through the staff and into the priestess' skull in one stroke.

"I surrender! I surrender!" a voice called from behind Fred. He spun, and saw a hin being herded toward him by Freki. "Tell your wolf I surrender!"

Fred snorted and left the hin to Freki's control, while turning to face the skeletons. He raised his sword and called out, "See how Kelemvor deals with the abomination of unlife!" His sword flashed brightly, and the skeletons crumbled into dust.

"I see how a naked Champion deals with people who threaten his home," Storm said teasingly. "Don't worry. I already called Ingmir. He should be here shortly. Why don't you go get cleaned up?"

"You should get someone to take this hin and his two human friends into custody, too." Fred rested the point of his sword on the ground and leaned on it, then absently rubbed his earlobe. "We're lucky I have friends in all the animal kingdoms."

"Oh?" Storm asked, while casting a Briar Web on the hin. Freki bounded over to nuzzle her hand, wagging his tail as he did so. "He's a sweetie, isn't he?"

"Sure is. Freki's a good boy. As soon as the guards collect the goons, he's getting a treat."

"So how did you know you were under attack?"

"Oh, one of the spiders in the house woke me up," Fred said, smiling. "She was worried enough to bite me when I didn't wake up right away."

"Only you," Storm laughed. "I'd expect that of a drow, not a human."

"I made a deal with the spiders when we moved in," Fred said, while shrugging. "If they ate any vermin that came into the house, they could stay. Apparently they decided that 'rotting meat that walks' was too much for them to deal with."

"What does Aribeth think of that?"

"She thinks that I'm crazy, but she loves me anyway," Fred laughed. "And it's a lot easier for her to let the spiders take care of unwanted bugs than to hunt them down herself."

"I came as quickly as I could," Ingmir panted, still wrapping his sash around his waist as he came to a stop by Storm and Fred. "What happened here?"

"A priestess of Velsharoon slew two guardsmen," Fred said, pointing at the dead guards. "I can't raise them, so if you want them back, you're going to have to do it."

"Oh," Ingmir said. He rushed to the dead guardsmen and began the ritual to restore them to life.

"You called?" asked a guardsman – Fred recognized him as Jelar, the night watch's sergeant – as he came within the light of Fred's sword.

"Prisoners for you," Fred said. "That hin over there, and two humans in the house. Aribeth is keeping the humans in line."

"Just what we need," Jelar said. "Midsummer's coming up, and now we have to deal with unwanted thugs?"

"Could be worse, you know. One of them was a priestess of Velsharoon."

"Damn!" Jelar glanced around, then glared at the hin, who was currently engaged in being very, very still. "You're going to make sure the graveyard is safe, right?"

"Of course," Fred said. "Freki, do you smell any more undead?"

Freki looked over at Fred, without moving from where Storm was scratching just the right spot, and humphed at him.

"I'll take that as a no," Fred laughed. "Don't worry, Jelar. I'll do a full sweep of the graveyard in the morning, and start blessing the older graves while I'm at it."

"Thank you," Jelar said, with a visible note of relief. "I don't want to imagine what the reaction would be if people started seeing their loved ones getting up and walking around."

"Neither do I." Fred let out a sigh and stood, took his sword, and started for the house. "Let's take care of the other prisoners, so Aribeth and I can go back to bed." He grinned at Storm and Freki. "Yes, you silly woof, you can get all the scritches you want."

"Scritches?" Jelar asked as he followed Fred into the house.

"What Storm's doing to him right now," Fred said, laughing. "Somewhere between scratching and petting. Fuzzyfolk really love it."

"Oh." Jelar's response was one Fred was used to by now – the tone that said he wasn't quite sure whether to put it down as a personal form of insanity or just another strange word that didn't translate into Chondathan.

"You're not going to believe this," Aribeth said as Fred and Jelar entered the house. She was sitting comfortably on Fred's desk, her feet propped on his chair and her swords resting on her lap, ready in case either prisoner attempted to cause trouble.

"Not going to believe what?" Fred asked.

"This group was hired by Nasher as bounty hunters." Aribeth practically spat as she gave the news. "If I had any doubts about his changing from the hero I once knew, this dispels them."

"And the Hall of Justice didn't object?" Fred asked, looking from Aribeth to the prisoners.

"The high priest specifically ordered that we bring back your heads," the archer said. "And  **only**  your heads."

"Even with your priestess?"

"He seemed amused by her," the archer said. "As if he thought she were particularly appropriate to send against you."

"I can't believe Oleff would have allowed that," Fred said. "Even possessed, that would be too outrageous for him."

"Oleff Uskar?" the archer asked. "He's dead. When we left Neverwinter, they had just hanged him for treason."

"They...killed...him...," Fred growled softly. Aribeth crossed the room to his side and laid a hand on his arm, just above his shield.

"There will be plenty of time to avenge him, my love," Aribeth said gently. "For now, let us focus on what we have promised to do here."

"As long as you're here, there will be more like us," the archer said, smirking. "You're lucky we decided to try to take you out directly. I just hope I live long enough to see the two of you brought down off your high horses."

"You don't know Shadowdale very well, do you, boy?" Jelar asked as he moved to bind the prisoners. "Your kind just bought themselves a world of hurt. We don't take well to outsiders attacking our people."

"No, we don't," Storm said from the doorway. Freki thumped her leg with his tail as he slunk past her to sit at Fred's feet. "In fact, we take it somewhat personally. Don't worry, though. We won't torture you." She smiled as she added, "We won't have to. You'll tell us everything we want to know."

"That's what you think, lady!" the archer shouted defiantly.

"That's what I know," Storm responded brightly. "Are they packaged for delivery, Jelar?"

"Ready whenever you are, Storm." At Jelar's response, the wizard began to look panic-stricken, and opened his mouth to speak, just a moment before he and the archer vanished in a flash of light.

"I can't believe they killed him," Fred murmured, sitting down heavily at his desk. "Sure, he may have had a quarterstaff up his ass, but he was still one of the  **good**  guys. You always knew where you stood with him."

"That's probably why they did it," Aribeth said, her knuckles white where she gripped her swords. "He would not stand by and let them pursue whatever evil they had in mind."

"Who are you talking about?" Storm asked. "A priest of Tyr?"

"The Reverend Judge Oleff Uskar," Aribeth said. "He was a senior priest in the Temple of Tyr, and the presiding judge in the Hall of Justice when I served Nasher. Fred's right. Oleff's devotion to justice and good were unshakable. He would never stand by while Nasher and the high priest made a deal with a priestess of Velsharoon."

"The talkative prisoner claimed that Oleff was executed for treason," Fred said.

"Which would make sense if he were the only voice for good left in a city turned to evil," Storm said. "Come to my house tomorrow and we'll see what we can learn."

"As soon as I'm done in the graveyard," Fred said. "I'm going to make sure that everyone buried there is safe from another of  **her**  kind, before I do anything else."

"That's just fine," Storm said. "That'll give me more time to prepare for you. I may even have some of the answers we want before you arrive."

"Thank you, Storm," Aribeth said. "I hope you don't mind me kicking you out, but I'd like to get this big oaf cleaned up and back into bed before he falls asleep where he's sitting." She threw a loving smile at Fred as she spoke.

"I don't mind at all, hon," Storm laughed warmly and waved as she led Jelar out the door. "I'll expect the two of you when you've finished your work here, then. Sweet dreams!"

Freki slurped Storm's hand and nosed Jelar, then padded back across the floor to Fred. He looked up and let out a questioning whine, bringing Fred out of his thoughts. Fred laughed and scratched him between his ears.

"That's right. I promised you a treat, didn't I?" Fred chuckled. "Well then, let's see what we have in the kitchen, ne?"

"Don't you dare touch the sausage," Aribeth growled, mock-threatening. "I spent way too much time on it." When Freki looked up at her with puppy eyes, she relented only a little. "You can have a piece of ham or bacon, but  **no**  sausage!" Then she turned her gaze on Fred and added, "And you, sir, are not to come back to bed until you get that blood washed off. I have no desire to find someone with a cleaning spell to get blood stains out of the bedding."

"Yes, ma'am," Fred laughed. "Anything you say, ma'am. Will there be anything else, ma'am?"

"Yes," Aribeth growled, then took Fred's head in both hands and pulled him to her for a deep and thorough kiss. "Hurry back to me, you silly man."

* * *

Morning found several guardsmen outside the house, assisting Aribeth and Fred in disposing of the bodies of the bounty hunters killed during the night. The body of the priestess had vanished sometime during the darkness, which left Fred unsettled and worried about what had happened while no one was watching. Still, not wanting to worry those helping, he kept his concerns to himself. Burying the dead kept them busy through most of the day, and blessing the new graves against use by necromancers filled the rest of the day. The guards laughingly waved off his offer of beer when they were finished, their leader explaining, "The Lady Storm told us to not delay you any longer than was needed to dispose of the vermin, and to remind you that she expects you at her house as soon as you smell like soap, rather than grave soil."

In the house, Aribeth waited with a hot bath prepared and clean clothes set out.

"Don't forget, we have to go visit Storm, love," Aribeth said as Fred staggered into the house, holding his blistered hands in front of him. She laughed as she touched them, healing the blisters. "A big, tough paladin, and you get blisters from digging a few graves?"

"Shovel's nothing like a sword," Fred grumbled, then smiled gratefully at her. "I need to mark down which graves I blessed, so I don't hit them again tomorrow."

"And then you need to get into that bath, before it gets cold,"Aribeth scolded gently.

"Trust me, love, there's no chance I'll forget to do  **that**. I feel like I could be mined for grime right now." Fred sat at his desk and checked off several grave sites on his map of the graveyard, then stood and smiled warmly at Aribeth. "There. Now, I'm ready for that bath."

Aribeth laughed and gently pushed him toward the tub. "Go on, then. I'll help you dress once you're clean."

"Weren't we supposed to go visit Storm?" Fred asked, blinking in mock innocence.

"Careful, or I'll demonstrate a spell that all female rangers learn as part of their training," Aribeth growled playfully. "Now, shoo!"

"Yes, ma'am! Right away, ma'am!" Fred laughed as he headed for his bath.

* * *

"Why was I not notified of the presence of a priestess of Velsharoon in my protectorate?" Arben Shemmar demanded. The High Dawnlord stood, with his retinue of acolytes and guards, blocking the road to Storm's farm.

"Perhaps," Fred replied, trying to convey utter boredom in his tone, but failing to keep his irritation with Arben's attitude entirely under control, "because she did not live long enough to be a threat to  **your**  protectorate. I have already taken care of any threat she made to  **my**  protectorate."

" **Your**  protectorate?" Arben exclaimed, managing to simultaneously sound surprised and outraged. "You have no protectorate!"

"Odd," Fred said, Aribeth's hand on his arm helping him focus enough to keep his temper under control. "That's not what you said last month, when Azalar entrusted me with the graveyard. I believe your exact words were, 'Since he champions the Lord of the Dead, make the dead his protectorate.' Have you changed your mind since then?"

"I – but – damn you, MacManus!" Arben sputtered. "You know I can't rescind my word! But –"

"Good," Fred said, "Now that that's settled, I'm on my way to talk about this incursion with Storm. Do you have anything more to say, or might I proceed?"

"Here barely a month, and you're already one of  **them** ," Arben muttered, then raised his voice to answer Fred. "You may proceed. I will send Ingmir to speak with you further."

"No problem," Fred said, relaxing. "Thank you, and have a good evening."

As they passed Arben's party and walked away, Fred whispered to Aribeth, "One of  **them**? Do you have any idea?"

"The only thing I can think of is that he's not fond of Harpers,"Aribeth answered. "That would be odd for a Dawnlord, I'd think."

"Might as well ask Storm when we get there, ne?"

"That sounds like a good idea." Aribeth stopped and kissed Fred. "I'm proud of you, love. You handled that without flaying him – either verbally or with your sword."

"I might have," Fred admitted, "if you hadn't been there. You make it possible for me to do things I couldn't otherwise do. Like deal with pretentious assholes."

Aribeth laughed and tugged Fred down the road toward Storm's house.

* * *

"You made it!" Storm said, embracing Aribeth, then Fred, as she welcomed them into her house. "I was starting to wonder if I'd see you today."

"I had to bless the graves after we were done burying them," Fred said, "just in case any more necromancers are in the area. I need to do that with the rest of the graveyard, starting tomorrow."

"You're the only one in the dale who can do it?" Storm asked.

"As far as I know," Fred said. "I saw a doomguide go through a few days ago, with that party that was headed toward Myth Drannor, but that's it since we arrived."

"You might want to think about sending for another priest or two, don't you think?" Storm led them to chairs arranged around the living room's fireplace. Even with Midsummer approaching, the nights still got cool enough that a fire was welcome."You've been active for so long, I can't imagine you wanting to put down roots so abruptly."

"It's all we talked about, the last couple years," Aribeth said. "We imagined how we would find a nice location where we could raise a garden for ourselves, and do a little hunting now and then, and maybe help out if our neighbors ran into trouble...but one thing we're both sure of is that we never want to be on the run like we have been for the last five years. When Lord Azalar made us citizens, it was like our dream came true."

"Don't forget the abbey, love," Fred laughed, giving Aribeth a loving look. "Or were you hoping I'd forget that?"

"Honestly, yes," Aribeth shot back with a smile. Seeing Storm's confused look, she said, "The last year or so, Fred's been talking more and more about wanting to find somewhere to establish an abbey, where he can bring together every resource he can for servants of Kelemvor, and they can be properly trained in how to serve those around them."

"Seriously?" Storm asked, an excited look in her eyes.

"Seriously," Fred said. "I've run into far too many priests who pine for the days of someone named Myrkul. I don't know who Myrkul was, but given the behavior of the priests who apparently used to serve him, I want to do everything I can to expunge their influence from the church. I figure an abbey that becomes known all over the world as the authority on the teachings of Kelemvor should do the trick. Especially if we can turn out paladins and monks, as well as priests."

"You have some pretty big plans," Storm said. "How do you propose to achieve them?"

"Obviously, the first step is finding somewhere," Fred said. "When Azalar asked me to take over the graveyard, I knew that Shadowdale was the place. The house isn't going to work in the long run, but it's perfect for now. We can take in students, and spread the word that we'll pay good money for any texts or objects that deal with Death. I'm not sure yet whether it's better to build the abbey around the graveyard, or to check out that abandoned keep back of your farm."

"My preference," Storm said, giving Fred and Aribeth both a grave look as she spoke, "is for you to take control of Castle Krag. It was the place from which Jyordhan ruled as a servant of the Zhents. We burned it when we overthrew him, and again just a couple years ago when we kicked the Zhent army out, but as long as it remains unclaimed, it is an open invitation for unknown enemies to establish a base within striking distance of the village."

Aribeth and Fred looked at each other, then Aribeth nodded and spoke. "As long as Lord Azalar approves, we will begin our work on the castle immediately. While I'm not so sure about Fred's idea for an abbey, I do know that the tactical importance of the castle is such that we would be ideal occupants, and it would increase Shadowdale's security against attacks from the north and east."

"It would also give you more space for your guests when they come for training or ...other purposes," Fred said. Storm raised an eyebrow and studied Fred for a moment, then laughed.

"So you pay attention to your neighbors, eh?" Storm asked, laughing.

"Yup," Fred said. "Also, anything that annoys Arben makes me smile – and he clearly does not like Harpers."

"That's for sure," Storm said. "He thinks we're too sneaky, underhanded, and secretive. All traits that a good Dawnlord – which he thinks he is – should stand in opposition to."

"Sounds good to me," Fred said, grinning. "So, do I need to sign up to help out, or just be ready with a hand when you need it?"

"That's all any of us are," Storm laughed. "A hand when you need it. As long as you're ready and willing to extend that hand as needed, you're already a friend of the Harpers."

"And if it adds to Arben's indigestion, all the better, eh?"

"We shouldn't deliberately provoke him," Aribeth chided. "He  **is**  the head of his temple here, after all."

"I promise, sweetheart, I won't  **deliberately**  provoke him," Fred said.

"I guess that's the best I can hope for," Aribeth sighed, then turned to Storm. "So, what can you tell us about Castle Krag?"

"And," Fred added, "can you tell us why the graveyard is so new? The oldest graves I've found all date to the second half of Nightal in 1374, and most of the burials took place between then and Midwinter of 1375. What happened? Does it have any relation to that Zhent army you mentioned?"

"That's part of why I'd like you to take possession of Castle Krag," Storm said. She paused, a sad, thoughtful expression on her face, then said, "We should wait to talk about this until we can include Azalar. You'll want to hear his part of the story."

"OK," Fred said. "I'm sure we'll want to pay a visit to him anyway, given the bounty hunters."

"Oh, them," Storm said dismissively. "They're nothing new. They've been following you since you fled Neverwinter. Their group was twice the size when they started following you." She let out a snort of laughter. "The things they had to say about the traps you supposedly used against them are quite entertaining."

"The traps...we...," Aribeth said, then began to laugh. "We didn't even know they were there, and they thought we had used traps against them?"

"That's right," Storm said. "Just goes to show what paranoia can do for you, doesn't it?"

"So," Aribeth asked, "since we should wait until we can meet with Lord Azalar before talking about recent history, what did you have in mind when you invited us to visit?"

"I thought we might try to learn what has happened in Neverwinter since you left," Storm said. "What do you think?"

"I think," Fred growled, "that unless it involves Nasher and his high priest ending up where they put Fenthick and Oleff, there's not much Neverwinter can offer us."

"All right," Storm said. "I guess we can safely put you in the 'level the city and salt the soil' camp."

"Fred, love," Aribeth said gently, resting a hand on his arm, "we can't just give up on them, as much as we might like to. You taught me that when you didn't give up on me."

"I...," Fred started to protest, then sighed and nodded. "You're right, love. I just...if I hadn't hit you over the head and dragged you out of there, you'd have been dead. Nasher ordered your death, and the high priest endorsed it. There was no way in Hell I was going to let them murder you like that."

"Now, this is what I wanted to hear," Storm said. "Hold that though, would you?" She walked over to a desk in the corner of the room and tapped on a stone. "Sister, I'd like you to hear this." A moment later, she tapped on a small bell, which did not so much ring as thud, and said, "El, would you pick up Azalar and come pay a visit? ... Yes, I  **do**  mean right now. ... Well, if you don't want a chance to hear the rest of Aribeth's story... I thought you'd see it that way. We'll be waiting for you."

"Ever get the feeling we're the most entertainment these people have had in years?" Fred whispered to Aribeth.

"Silly!" She snorted, and gently punched his arm.

As Storm walked back to join Aribeth and Fred, Sylune manifested in the center of the room. Seeing the two, she looked questioningly at Storm, who smiled and nodded.

"Yes, Sister," Storm said, "these are the two I told you about. Come and join us?"

"Hmm," Fred mused, while studying Sylune as she approached. "I think I'm going to have to come to a judicial decision and rule that, while you are clearly dead and not passed on to your designated destination, you are not what I would call 'undead' – and therefore, I can safely treat you as a neighbor, rather than an enemy."

Sylune stopped and looked from Fred to Storm, then back to Fred again, with a worried expression on her face. She studied Fred's face intently for a few moments, then laughed and whispered, "You...you...are you sure you're a paladin? That was positively..."

"He likes to tease his friends," Aribeth said, offering Sylune a warm smile. "So if he's teasing you, he's already decided you're a friend."

"I like them, Sister," Sylune said to Storm. "Can we keep them?"

"That's what we hope for," Storm said. "He plans to turn Castle Krag into an abbey, and she...you know, we haven't really discussed your plans, Aribeth."

"I'm...still working on that," Aribeth said, her face falling. "My faith in Tyr was tested, and I failed. I am devoted to Kelemvor now, but I don't believe I will ever be a paladin again. If Shadowdale can use my skills as a ranger, I will do all I can to make myself useful. But..."

"Aribeth," Storm said gently, "We all have our times of self-doubt. You've spent the last five years running for your life. It's only natural that all those doubts you buried while you were running are starting to come up, now that you aren't running any more. What's important is to remember that you have friends, and when the doubts become so great that you can't trust yourself any more, you can turn to us, and borrow our faith to help you get through those times."

"A true ranger would be a great help," Sylune said. "We have students who visit us regularly, many of whom are rangers, but to have one of your skill as a part of our community will help in many ways, from improving our defenses against the Zhents to helping to feed those who are too weak or broken to fend for themselves. We need you, Aribeth. We truly do need you."

"You see, sweetheart?" Fred said gently, taking Aribeth's hand and squeezing gently. "You are neither a failure nor a burden. I would not be surprised if our ghostly friend saw your performance against those bounty hunters, and so is speaking from true knowledge, not merely opinion."

"I...did," Sylune said, blushing. "The presence of a necromancer alerted me to evil, and after I warned Storm, I sought the source. I arrived in time to see your swordwork against that dwarf, and I was impressed. I believe you could teach our students a few tricks even Storm doesn't know."

"You really think so?" Aribeth asked. "You're not just tolerating me because Fred's so good at ...how does he term it... spreading fertilizer?"

Fred snorted, his face turning interesting colors as he tried to hold in his laughter. Storm sat back in her chair and laughed without any attempt at restraint. Sylune rolled her eyes and waited until the two ran down.

"I really do think so," Sylune said, once the room was quiet enough that her whisper could be heard. "In fact, I would be honored if you would consent to spar with me, now and then."

"Aribeth, hon," Storm said, when she was able to get words out again, "Fred couldn't spread fertilizer to save his life. I swear, he's such a bad liar that the only way anyone would believe him is if they wanted to. I may be wrong, but from what I've seen since you two got here, he is so inherently honest that I'm willing to bet that he can't even lie to you when  **you**  want him to. Am I right?"

"Errr...," Aribeth blushed and nodded slowly. "You are." She looked at Fred and smiled lovingly. "I'm sorry, sweetheart, but it's true. I can tell when you're lying to me, like that time in Biradoon, when we bought those stillsuits and I asked you how mine made me look. Remember?"

"Umm...," Fred gulped. "Can I get back to you on that?"

"See what I mean?" Storm laughed. "So, trust me, we're not just tolerating you because of his ability to bullshit. We honestly want you here. Everyone who has met you...well, except for a few people who don't like anyone...honestly does like you. I've even heard a few people at the Old Skull grumbling about how unfair it is that you're married."

"All right," Aribeth laughed, her cheeks practically blazing. "I get the picture. I'll do my best to remember that in the future."

"Good," Storm said, "because if you don't, I'll take you out into my practice yard and show you how I spar with my  **friends**."

"I kind of hope you'd do that anyway," Aribeth said. "I mean, if it's not being too forward."

"Hon," Storm said seriously, "Morag really shook you up, didn't she? I mean, listen to yourself! Is that the confidence of a paladin? You sound like you're still recovering from being defeated."

"I...," Aribeth paused and considered what Storm had said. "I think you may be right. I've never been confident in myself. All of my confidence and trust was in Tyr. Even when Fred rescued me from my sentence of execution, I believed what was to happen was just, because I had no faith in myself. It took ...almost two years?... of Fred's patience and unswerving devotion before I was able to look at what had happened with an unprejudiced eye and realize that I had been sentenced to death for a crime that, in other cases that had been judged in the Hall of Justice, had required, at most, a pilgrimage of atonement."

"And even then, it took a Bedine elder to get the point across," Fred said. "Remember what he said?"

"I do," Aribeth said, nodding slowly. "He said, 'The sorcerer who enslaved you is dead, yes? Then the penalty has been paid for the crime, by the one guilty of causing the crime. You are free of guilt. Now, go, and do not commit the crime of punishing yourself unjustly.' I had never thought of it that way before, but as the Bedine saw it, I was merely the hand that held the sword. I was not the mind that drove the hand, and the guilt rested in the mind that drove the hand, not the hand or the sword. The rest of the world sees the Bedine as primitive and superstitious, but it was their unshakable practicality, combined with Fred's stubbornness, that finally made me understand my true place in what had happened."

"The rest of the world are idiots," Elminster said, removing a rain-soaked traveling cloak while standing just inside the door. "Now, why don't you give Azalar and myself some time to get settled before you start your story?"


	4. Chapter 4

"I suppose we can start with the siege of Neverwinter," Fred said. "Other than the Elk Tribe, I didn't really run into anyone working for Aribeth between Luskan and the siege."

"And the Elk Tribe wasn't really working for me," Aribeth said. "They were just desperate for a cure for the Plague Commander Damas had inflicted on them."

"The Plague Commander Damas had inflicted on them?" Azalar asked. "What do you mean?"

"There's another one I'd like to see on the gallows," Fred growled. "The commander of the Alliance fort, Fort Ilkard, was one of those pigs who thought the Uthgart were subhuman beasts. So, as a form of 'pest control', he managed to acquire several crates of blankets that were infected with the Plague, and delivered them to the Elk Tribe as a gift from the Alliance."

"Needless to say, as soon as they realized what was causing the deaths of their people, the Elk Tribe declared war on the Alliance." Aribeth sighed heavily. "Maugrim believed it was the perfect opportunity to bring one of the Uthgart tribes under Morag's control, and it had been handed to him on a silver platter by the Alliance. When he promised them he could deliver a cure for the Plague, they were willing to do anything he wanted."

"What happened to Damas?" Azalar asked.

"Good question," Fred said. "Unfortunately, I couldn't kill him, because that would have forced me to fight most of the surviving members of his command – and most of them were innocent farmers who'd been drafted by Damas to fill his ranks as the Uthgart killed his soldiers. It would have been a slaughter, and they were innocent, unlike Damas." He sighed heavily. "All I was able to do was report his actions to High Priest Neurik and Aarin Gend. What actions they took, I don't know."

"Luckily for everyone concerned," Aribeth said, smiling lovingly at Fred, "Fred was able to find a solution to the problem that delivered a cure to the Uthgart without their tribe submitting to Morag."

"Oh, that was easy," Fred said, blushing. "I just threatened to deliver the plague blankets to Neurik if Damas didn't hand over his copy of the cure. At the time, I was just concerned with helping the Elk Tribe. I figured I could go back and deal with Damas later."

"So, that was the last time the two of you were involved in the same thing until the siege of Neverwinter?" Storm asked.

"That's right," Aribeth said. "Even then, Fred was mostly active in smashing the tools of the siege – the war golems, siege engines, and wizards Maugrim had acquired in his months of planning before I became part of their plans."

"That was the easy part," Fred said, shrugging. "The hard part was finding you. If not for Maugrim's habit of sending his people written orders, in plain text, rather than code, I might never have stumbled across the portal that led to your command center. Once I found it, going through the guards was easy."

"Even the Guardian?" Aribeth asked, a surprised look on her face. "Maugrim claimed that the Guardian was the most powerful protector he could conjure up."

"That thing at the portal?" Fred asked. "I went through that like a cat through a demon."

"Like a cat through a demon?" Elminster asked. "Even I don't recognize that phrase. Care to explain?"

"Oh! Sure," Fred said. "Bast – Sharess on Toril – is, in the church I was a member of on Earth, not merely the Goddess of pleasure. She was, first and foremost, the Goddess of shredding demons. In fact, one of Her most popular images was an image of Her, in the shape of a house cat, standing on the prow of Ra's sun barque and carving up Apep with a dagger. She did this every morning, so that Ra could exit the underworld and sail through the heavens. Of course, on Earth, Set was also one of Ra's protectors. He stood on the bow of the sun barque and used His spear to ward off Apep while Ra traveled through the underworld every night. Needless to say, their copies on Toril are quite a bit different from their Earthly originals."

"Sharess? Shredding demons?" Storm asked, a look of disbelief on her face.

"Absolutely," Fred said. "So, 'like a cat through a demon' was a phrase a lot of us who knew Her on Earth used to describe something that was as easy – but potentially violent – as a cat shredding a demon."

"Well, if it was that easy, that explains why Fred wasn't even breathing hard when he came through the portal," Aribeth said. "By that time, I had recovered enough of my own self that I didn't  **want**  to fight him, but Morag would not let me simply surrender. At least, not until he had beaten me so thoroughly that she was convinced he was going to kill me, and simply abandoned me. When she did that, I was myself again, and able to surrender to him."

"That was my happiest day in months," Fred said. "When Ari lay down her arms and surrendered to me, I knew she was beginning to escape from Morag's hold on her. Still, she was wise enough to know that she was vulnerable, after having been under Morag's spell for all that time, so rather than join me in killing Maugrim, she went to the palace and turned herself in. Honestly, I was terrified when she did that. Between the chance that a random soldier would see her and try to claim the price on her head before she got to the palace, and the chance that Nasher would decide to kill her on the spot, I was about ninety percent certain that I would not see her again – at least, not alive."

"Still, you killed Maugrim and came to the palace," Aribeth said.

"Yeah, I did," Fred said. "Maugrim wasn't nearly as easy as his guardian, what with the tricks he'd pulled to avoid death, but Linu and I still managed to finish him off. I wasn't nearly as stressed by that as I was by the fear that I'd find Ari dead. So when I got to the palace and discovered that she had made it, and was being kept in a cell in the dungeon, I could have walked on air."

"You were happy?" Sylune whispered.

"Ecstatic," Fred said. "Ari was alive, she was safe – for the moment, at least, and I had a chance to ensure that she was freed from Morag for good. Compared with the situation the day before, circumstances were so much better, I couldn't help but be happy."

"Yes, I can understand that," Sylune agreed.

"I'm not sure I can claim I was as happy as Fred," Aribeth said, "but I was relieved that I hadn't been executed on the spot, that I was free of Morag, even if only provisionally, and that Fred had not simply given up on me. Until that day, I had not realized just how deeply he loved me, nor how much I had been counting on his love to pull me through. Even as Morag's slave, my true self, buried deep beneath her control, was focused on Fred as my salvation. I suppose I should be ashamed that, as a former paladin of Tyr, my hopes were not invested in Him, but I find that I can not muster up any feeling of shame for that. I love Fred. I loved Fred, even through the power of Morag's sorcery. And I relied on that love as my sanity, my hope, everything it took to remain myself under that creature's domination."

"Much the way I relied on my love to guide me to you, ne?" Fred said.

"Fred," Azalar said, "I've noticed you using that word a lot. What does 'ne' mean?"

"Huh?" Fred asked, then laughed, blushing. "Oh! It's a word from the language spoken in a country on Earth called Japan. I'm not sure what the exact meaning of the word is, but it's used by Japanese people, and by a lot of the people I knew on Earth, to include concepts like 'isn't that right' or 'wouldn't you agree'. One of the funniest things you can see on Earth is a conversation between two Japanese girls, noticing an attractive man. It usually goes something like this: girl one looks the man over, then glances at her friend and says, 'Ne?' Then her friend looks the man over, glances back at the first, and says, 'Ne, ne!' Unless you noticed them undressing the man with their eyes, it wouldn't make any sense at all."

"Nice to know girls are the same no matter what world," Storm laughed.

Elminster humphed and lit his pipe.

Azalar rubbed his horns and muttered, "It's things like this that give me a headache."

"He does things like that all the time," Aribeth said, while smiling fondly at Fred. "It was part of how I knew it was really him when he came to me and insisted we needed to escape from Neverwinter. I knew, no matter how good a copy anyone else might make, they couldn't copy his otherworldly habits and ways of speaking."

* * *

Aribeth looked up from where she knelt in prayer on the floor of her cell. It had been days since the destruction of the Source Stone – an event that had nearly brought the palace down on her head – and she had discovered two things in that time: first, that Fred kept his promise to always be at her side – at least, when Lord Nasher did not demand his presence as part of Neverwinter's rebuilding effort, and second, that her prayers to Tyr were receiving no more reply than they had in Port Llast. Even when Oleff had come and prayed with her, adding his voice to hers in asking what form her atonement should take, no reply was forthcoming. It had puzzled and disturbed Oleff, while confirming to her that she had sinned so greatly that Tyr wanted nothing more to do with her. Still, as long as Fred was with her, she could endure.

Through the door of her cell, one of the guards leered at her. She shuddered and lowered her head, focusing on her prayers and doing her best to push the image of the guard's evil leer out of her mind.

"Oh, look," the guard sneered. "The treasonous bitch is pretending to pray. Maybe we should give her something to worship she's more deserving of. What do you think, Ander?"

Another guard, out of sight beyond the walls of her cell, answered the first, "Leave me out of it, Bran. I have no desire to explain anything to her lover."

"Why should he have all the pleasure?" Bran complained. "I think I'm going to get me a taste of elf bitch."

The sound of her door being unlocked drew Aribeth's attention back up, just in time to see the sneering guard enter her cell.

"So," Bran sneered as he walked around Aribeth, while she held herself very still and attempted to ignore his leers, "our very own traitor thinks she's too good for mere prison guards, does she? You're nothing, bitch. You'll get yours soon enough, and so will that traitor-loving 'hero' of yours."

Aribeth shuddered. She knew she deserved death, but could they really turn on Fred, as well? Suddenly, she felt pain in her scalp, as the guard grabbed her hair and pulled her head back. Bran glared into her eyes, and, while holding her hair with one hand, undid the fasteners of his pants with the other. She let out a whimper while trying to find a way to escape. She knew she couldn't fight back, because prisoners had no right to defend themselves against guards. When she had been Lord Nasher's agent, she had seen several cases where prisoners had been battered by the guards, and no matter how badly they were used, if they raised a hand against the guard, they were put to death. Bran's pants were around his ankles, and he began slapping her face with his phallus, while laughing evilly.

In desperation, Aribeth silently cried out, hoping with all her heart that Fred's God would grant her a small measure of the consideration Fred did. "Kelemvor, please help me! I know I don't deserve it, but I beg you, protect me against this vile man."

_Time seemed to freeze, and Aribeth felt as if she were being drawn away from the prison, into a place where all was gray and still._

_"You have been praying to Tyr before this, but now you call my name. Why?" The voice seemed sad, as if her prayer had brought up old memories._

_"I...I know you can be trusted," Aribeth said, realizing as she did that not only could she speak nothing but the truth, but that she only **wanted**  to speak the truth. "Tyr will not even answer his Judge where I am concerned, but you have granted Fred's prayers whenever he has prayed on my behalf, despite what I have done. I don't deserve it, yet you have shown me mercy and caring. If you will show me how I may atone for my crimes, I would serve you, as he does."_

_"You wish to be a paladin in my service?"_

_"No, my lord. I am not worthy of such a calling. I only wish to serve you."_

_"I think I am best suited to determine if you are worthy of being a paladin." He chuckled, and something in that chuckle soothed Aribeth's fears. "But in this case, I agree with you. Until you have atoned for what you did as a pawn of Morag, you are not ready to consider whether you are worthy of being a paladin. I sentence you to give comfort and peace in death to as many people as you killed as Morag's slave. You shall do so as a ranger in my service. Once you have completed your atonement, I shall visit you again, and we shall take up the matter of your paladinhood at that time."_

_"You..." Aribeth began, astonished that he would so readily accept her service after all she had done. When he chuckled at her surprise, she stammered out, "Yes, my lord. Thank you, my lord."_

_"Now, as for the matter at hand, I believe you will find it is dealt with."_

Aribeth felt herself falling back into her body, just in time to feel blood splash the side of her face and hear Fred's growl of rage. She opened her eyes, and saw Bran's hands – and phallus – laying on the floor of her cell. Bran was screaming in pain and stumbling around the cell, mindlessly flailing his arms in front of him.

"Time to go," Fred growled, grabbing Aribeth's arm and pulling her to her feet. As they left her cell, Aribeth noticed his favorite shield was strapped across his back, over his pack, and he was holding her with his shield hand, while his sword, still dripping with Bran's blood, was in his sword hand.

Ander was half-way across the dungeon by the time they cleared the door of Aribeth's cell. Fred fixed him with a glare that brought him up short.

"Don't," Fred growled. "If you try to stop us, you will die. Don't make me kill you."

"Hey," Ander said, holding up his hands, "I have a wife and kids to go home to. Do whatever you're going to do."

"Wise choice," Fred said. He lead Aribeth to a new door in the dungeon, in an area that had been a prison cell when she was Lord Nasher's agent. Without pausing, he held his sword crosswise in front of himself and barked a word she didn't recognize, that sounded vaguely like it was dwarven. A ram-shaped ball of force fired out of one of his rings and blew the door out of its frame. They stepped over the wreckage and into a tunnel she had never seen before – one that looked as if it were as old as some of the caverns she had once hunted orcs in. Lit by the glow of his sword, Fred stalked down the tunnel, around a corner, and into a chamber that had clearly been someone's laboratory not too long ago. The chamber exited with two archways to the left, both of which had once had doors but now had only splintered wood, and also opened directly ahead onto a much larger space, with water that stretched far enough away that the echoes of their footsteps faded into the distance.

"Are you doing what I think you're doing?" Aribeth asked, eying the lake.

"Yes, we are," Fred said, stripping off his armor and storing it in one of his bags. This was her first clue that he had acquired a bag of holding while they had been apart. Once he was down to his breeches, he turned to her and said, "I'm sorry I couldn't rescue your armor and swords. I promise, we'll find you new ones, once we're far enough away that you won't be instantly recognized."

"But, I can't just run away from justice," Aribeth objected.

"You aren't," Fred said. "What Nasher and the high priest have planned for you is not justice, it's butchery."

"It's what I deserve, though."

"Not even demons deserve what they have planned. As for justice, if you want that, then we'll just have to come up with some way to spread as much good as Morag made you spread evil." Fred took the ring he had used on the door off and tucked it in the bag with his armor, then donned another ring and removed a matched pair of heavy platinum pendants from the bag. Putting one on and offering the other to her, he said, "Here. Put this on. If you hear anyone coming before I find what I'm looking for, dive into the lake."

Aribeth took the necklace and put it on. Immediately, the air around her seemed to be cleaner, as if it had been magically filtered. She crouched by the edge of the water and looked back the way they had come, with a sigh of relief when she realized that the light from Fred's sword was bright enough that she could see almost to the end of the tunnel. It wasn't long before she saw the flickering of torches, reflected off the wall at the corner of the tunnel.

"Someone's coming," Aribeth said.

"Damn it!" Fred cursed, and closed his bag. Once it was in his pack, he took Aribeth's hand and leaped into the water, pulling her in with him.

* * *

"I'm surprised," Elminster said. "You honestly didn't understand why Tyr did not answer either you or Oleff?"

"No," Aribeth said. "I still don't understand. Oleff was so devout that he should have been high priest in Neverwinter, but the highest rank he ever achieved was Judge."

"And did Oleff ever accept a blessing from the false Helmites?"

"No..."

"And Nasher and the High Priest?"

"Both of them did," Aribeth said. "In fact, they were the first people in the city to receive the blessings, from Desther, personally."

"Oh my," Fred said softly. "What are the odds their blessings were...special?"

"I don't think we even need to guess," Aribeth said, a horrified look on her face. "It explains so much!"

"And we missed it entirely," Fred said, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I am such an  **idiot**!"

"That goes without saying," Elminster said blandly. Sylune shot a book from a nearby bookcase at him, while Storm reached out to slap the back of his head. Elminster plucked the book out of the air, glanced at it while ignoring Storm's slap, and commented, "Thanks, but I've read this one already."

"Do you think it's possible they can be exorcised after all this time?" Aribeth asked thoughtfully.

"Do you think we can get close enough to try?" Fred replied. They looked at each other with a blaze of determination in their eyes.

Aribeth turned to Storm and opened her mouth to speak, just as the house was rocked by the sound of thunder. Sylune winced in pain, whispered, "The Portal!" and vanished.

"Damn it!" Storm cursed, rising to her feet. "That portal was destroyed!"

"You, of all people, know a portal is never truly destroyed," Elminster said. "We'd better investigate."

"Since you're inheriting the castle, you'll need to see this," Storm said. "Azalar?"

"Yes," Azalar said, rising to his feet. "The grove is the quickest route. Follow me."

Elminster humphed, then rose to his feet to follow, while Storm herded Aribeth and Fred out, in Azalar's wake.

Azalar led them out to the road, then north. Just before he reached the earthworks that blocked the ground between the road and the Ashaba, he turned into the woods, and along a trail that led to a clearing that looked, even to Fred, like an abandoned druid grove. Just within the boundary of the grove, Azalar called out in a language that sounded to Fred somewhat like Elven, but not quite enough for him to understand clearly. After a minute, a portal appeared in mid-air, with no visible containing structure.

"Not many people know about the backroads, much less have a chance to use them," Storm said, while grinning. "Just stay close and you won't get lost." With that, she followed Azalar through the portal. Aribeth smiled and led Fred through the portal.

On the other side, Fred saw a network of trails, all converging at this spot, then running off through the woods, which glimmered with an inner light of their own, almost like they were made of moonlight. In the brush and trees were creatures, not quite visible, yet detectable enough that Fred could tell they were watching the group.

Azalar picked one of the trails and started down it. The group reached its destination – a spot that looked and felt like a hole in the path – in a matter of just a few seconds.

Storm indicated the hole and said, "This is part of what you need to rebuild. It won't be as easy as the physical castle, but it's just as important."

Azalar chanted again, for a longer time, while appearing as if the effort was much greater at this location. Once the portal opened, it looked ragged and unstable. Storm pushed Fred and Aribeth toward it, then moved to Azalar's side. She placed a hand on his shoulder, and silver fire flowed from her into him. As the fire flowed, the portal stabilized, just enough that Aribeth and Fred were able to leap through it without risk of contact with the edges.

On the other side, Elminster waited in the courtyard of a ruined castle. The west end of the courtyard was bound by a tower made of rough stone blocks and a stables that looked as if they had been made of concrete. The east end of the courtyard was rubble and unfinished foundations. Fred groaned when he saw the condition of the place.

"We might as well tear it down and start from the ground up," Aribeth whispered to Fred.

"You think so, too?" Fred asked softly.

"It's obvious, don't you think? I like the idea of using Stoneshape to make the walls, though. We'll have to see if we can find a wizard willing to work for us when it's time to rebuild." Aribeth smiled and squeezed Fred's hand gently.

Fred drew his sword and held it up, shining light over the courtyard and revealing the stable and tower doors, as well as the thresholds where doors would have gone in the ruined parts of the structure. Elminster led the way into the tower, down the stairs to the basement. After several minutes of following him down a wide hallway that led into a space that still contained lingering essence of evil, Aribeth and Fred waited while Elminster opened a concealed door near an altar at the end of the hallway.

Beyond the concealed door was a room, about ten feet long by fifteen feet wide, with the floor covered with pulverized rock in a fan that spread from an archway in the center of the wall farthest to the left. The archway itself was large enough to drive a wagon through. Fred noted the archway in passing, for his attention was taken up by what he saw laying on the floor in front of the archway. There, curled up in a fetal position, was a naked woman. Fred and Aribeth ran to help her, and when they knelt on either side, both stopped, stunned into immobility by what they saw. The woman laying on the floor, with the exception of a few details, could have been Aribeth's twin. The only differences they could see between the woman on the floor, and Aribeth as she knelt with Fred, was that the unconscious woman was human, and while Aribeth was fuller in her hips, the unconscious woman was fuller in her bust. Hanging from a chain around her neck was a golden pendant, in the shape of a cat holding a knife.

Fred shook his head as he looked at her and whispered, "It can't be."

"What can't be?" Aribeth asked, raising her eyes from the mystery woman to Fred.

"She looks like...," Fred raised his eyes and looked into Aribeth's eyes as he said softly, "She looks like you...and...Lada."

"Your Lada?" Aribeth asked. "The one you told me so many stories about?"

"Yes," Fred said, his voice shaking. "I never really made the connection before, but..."

"You first felt comfortable with me," Aribeth said gently, reaching out to touch Fred's cheek, "because I reminded you of someone you loved before you died. As we grew to know each other, you grew to love me for myself, not merely for who I reminded you of. Now...this woman has you shaken, because her presence brings that similarity to the forefront of your mind, and you are afraid that I will think less of you for it."

Fred nodded slowly, his eyes still fixed on Aribeth's.

"My love," Aribeth said, her voice still gentle and soothing, her fingers tracing Fred's cheek and jaw, "how could I think less of you for the love in your heart? If anything, I would think less of you if you had forgotten your love for her. Now, whoever this woman is, it is up to us to help her. Do you have a spare cloak in one of your bags?"

"I...I think so," Fred said, shaking his head in an attempt to clear it, and reaching for one of his belt pouches. He fumbled around inside it until he found and drew out a simple black cloak, which he draped over the unconscious woman.

As if the touch of the fabric was all it took to wake her, she stirred and blearily said, "Fred? Oh, good. You're in my dream, too." After speaking, she turned over, pulling the cloak with her as if it were a blanket.

Fred fell back and sat with a thud, staring at the woman in shock. "L...Lada? But...how?"

"How, indeed," Elminster grumbled. "Damnable idiots thought throwing up a wall of stone was enough to close the portal, but it's not an interplanar portal, so how did she come through it?" He began studying the archway intently, occasionally muttering as he cast spells to analyze the magic on it.

_"_ _Fred_ _?"_  the woman exclaimed, sitting up suddenly. "But you're dead!"

"I'm sorry," Fred said. "Oh, wait. That's your line."

"Fred!" Aribeth chided. "Be nice!"

Lada began laughing, then stopped, a confused look on her face. "Wait...that didn't hurt. What the hell?"

Fred threw his arms around Lada and hugged her tight. "You're alive! You're here! How?"

Lada pushed Fred away and looked at him blearily, as if she couldn't fully focus on him, then said, uncertainly, "Bast said my favorite puppy did a half-assed job?"

Fred looked over at Aribeth, then began laughing. "Bast...said...talk about perfect timing!"

Aribeth smiled at Fred, then gently touched Lada's shoulder and said, "Your name is Lada, am I right? My name is Aribeth. I am Fred's other wife."

Lada turned her head toward Aribeth, tilted it, and blinked as she again tried unsuccessfully to focus on the face before her, as she stammered, "But, but...oh." After a pause, while she tilted her head the other way and turned her unfocused gaze from Aribeth to Fred, then back to Aribeth, she said, "But I'm not...I just...huh?"

"It's all right," Aribeth said gently. "Fred confuses me sometimes, too." She laughed softly and winked at Fred. "Why don't we get you out of here before you get bruises from all these rocks?"

Fred nodded and rose to his feet, then reached down and offered the women his hands. "I have boots in one of my bags, and I should have robes, too. But it'll be easier for you to put them on if you're not trying to avoid tripping on rubble at the same time."

"Oooh...I'm going to throw up," Lada moaned. "How can you manage two eyes without feeling sick?"

Aribeth took Fred's hand and rose to her feet, then put her hand on Lada's shoulder. "Just take my hand, Lada. You don't have to see it."

Lada closed her eyes and said, with a tone of deep relief, "Thank you." She took Aribeth's hand and rose to her feet, the cloak sliding off her in a heap at her feet.

Fred crouched, picked up the cloak, and put it on Lada, clasping it at her neck. "Here you go. Aribeth's right. You don't have to try to figure out two eyes right now, OK? Would it help if I used a scarf to cover one of your eyes?"

"I have to learn eventually, don't I?" Lada asked, clearly not relishing the thought, but facing it head-on. "Just...give me time, OK?"

"You'll have all the time you need," Aribeth said.

"Yeah," Fred agreed. "As long as we don't get more of those damned bounty hunters."

"Who'd you piss off?" Lada asked Fred.

Aribeth shot Fred a look that clearly indicated, 'don't bother her with the details', then said gently, "Don't worry about it, hon. Right now, all you have to worry about is learning about your new home."

Fred looked at Elminster and asked, "You have lights of your own, Old Man? The sword's coming with us."

Elminster glanced over, grunted, and waved dismissively, then gestured and summoned several green glowing torches from the hallway. Once they settled into their brackets on the walls, the glow brightened until it was easily bright enough to read the finest of runes.

"OK," Fred said. "You need anything, give a yell."

"What I need," Elminster grumbled, "is some peace and quiet so I can study this portal."

Aribeth laughed and teasingly said, "He sounds like you, sweetheart."

Fred stuck his tongue out at Aribeth, then led the way into the hall and back upstairs. In the tower's entry at ground level, he stopped and dug into the belt pouch he had pulled the cloak from. After several minutes of searching, he pulled out a pair of black dancing slippers and a brightly-colored robe, and offered them, one at a time, to Lada. "Here we go. I knew I had something in here that would be useful."

"You've got the Doctor's pockets! Finally! You've always wanted them!" Lada shook her head, then asked, "Am I awake? You've got the Doctor's pockets."

"Yes, love," Fred said. "You're awake. We'll explain when we get you back to Storm's house."

"What are you going to do next?" Lada asked distractedly, while putting on the slippers and robe, "offer me a jelly-baby? Thank you for the clothes."

Aribeth stood back and chuckled, watching as Fred tried to manage this little situation. As much as she loved him, it was still fun watching what he did when his equilibrium was upset. Once Lada was dressed, and her robe began glowing as brightly as a strong light spell, Aribeth said, "We should hurry back to Azalar and Storm, so they can close that portal."

"Good point," Fred said. "Are you OK, Lada? Do you need to take my arm, or Aribeth's?"

"Yes," Lada said. "Yours." As she took Fred's offered arm, she asked, her voice shaking, "What did I do wrong? Why am I glowing?"

"Oh, you didn't do anything wrong," Fred said. "That's just a Robe of Scintillating Colors. It glows like that all the time. It has some other powers, too, if you know the commands to activate them. But for now, the most important thing is that it's a robe. And the slippers are Slippers of Spider Climbing. They'll let you walk on any surface – as long as it's not too slippery – just like a spider does, for about ten minutes a day."

"Umm...umm...oh...kay...," Lada said slowly, looking at Fred as if he had just grown a second head.

Aribeth's chuckles turned to laughter. "Let's see you get yourself out of  **this**  one, sweetheart!" she teased. "But while you're figuring that out, we need to get moving. I'm sorry, Lada, but two of our friends are holding a portal open for us, and we need to get through it so they don't exhaust themselves."

"Good point," Fred said, grateful for the distraction of something practical to do. He led Lada out of the tower, toward the ragged hole in the air that marked the portal to the backroads, directly over the center of the courtyard. "When we get to the portal, just step over it like you would over a curb, OK?"

"I guess this is payback for all the confusion I used to give you," Lada murmured, then said, "OK...I'll do my best." She bit her lip and clung tightly to Fred's arm.

Aribeth led the way through the portal, then turned back to take Lada's arm as Fred helped her through the opening. As soon as Fred was through, Azalar let the portal close, and sat down heavily.

"What did you find?" Storm asked, while looking Lada over.

"This is Lada," Aribeth said. "Fred's Lada."

"She came through the portal?" Storm asked, surprised. "But that's not a planar portal. All it does is go to Zhentil Keep."

"Regardless," Fred said, "she came through it. And whoever opened the portal did it with so much power they blasted the wall of stone that someone had used to block it. Elminster's studying what's left right now."

"Bast," Aribeth said. "Not 'whoever', love. From what she said, it was Bast."

"Which is your world's version of Sharess," Storm said, "right?"

"Right," Fred said. "Lada said Bast sent her here because her favorite puppy – that would be me – had done a half-assed job. Which means She knew, even from Earth, that I had missed my chance to deal with the desecration of Neverwinter."

"Not our  **only**  chance," Aribeth said. "Just the easiest one. Now we have to figure out how to do it, while dealing with whatever they have managed to build up over the last five years."

"Yes," Lada stammered, "Bast...asked me...if I would help. And anyway...she wanted her image here...to get an image overhaul. And...she thought...maybe I could help?"

"Well," Storm said, taking firm control of the situation. "First, we'll go back to my house, and talk about this over dinner. Then, we'll decide what to do about the Neverwinter problem." She held up her hand. "I know, I know, you two want to rush back there and throw yourselves into the fray, but that would just be a nasty way to commit suicide." She looked at Fred. "You offered to help  **us** , now let  **us**  help you."

"OK," Fred said, surrendering gracefully – and gratefully, if he admitted the truth to himself. He looked at Lada and asked, "Are you OK, love? It's not too much for you to take, is it?"

"Better than he is," Lada said, looking in Azalar's direction. "Not that that says a lot."

"I'll be OK," Azalar said. "Just give me a bit to rest."

"Wouldn't it be better for you to rest back at the grove?" Fred asked.

"Wait...grove?" Lada asked, confused. "Where  **am**  I, anyway?"

"That sounds like a good idea," Azalar said, pushing himself to his feet. "This way." He started down the path toward the grove, leading the way for the rest.

Aribeth touched Lada's shoulder and said gently, "You're with friends, hon. Fred and Azalar are right, though. We'll all do a lot better at the grove than right here. There's something about this place that feels...toxic."

"Given all that's happened here," Storm said, "I'm not surprised. You all follow Azalar. I'll cover our rear."

"Here you go, love," Fred said, as he offered Lada his arm. "We should get moving."

Once again, the trip from the castle to the grove took only a few seconds. At the grove, Azalar sat by the crossroads and breathed deeply for several breaths, before saying, "I should have remembered, that place truly is toxic. The Zhents deliberately cut the road there, and used their magic to desecrate the place so that it would not heal on its own."

Storm nodded, then looked from Aribeth to Lada and back again. She shook her head and muttered, "Definitely at home. I think I'm going to have to break out some of that wine Alassra brought me last Shieldmeet. We're going to need it."

Azalar rose to his feet and opened the portal, much more quickly from this side than from the other, and the group quickly crossed through and returned to Storm's house.

In the house, Storm conjured up another chair to add to the circle around the fireplace, and said cheerfully, "Welcome to my home, Lada. Please make yourself comfortable."

Lada rubbed her eyes and whimpered, "This seeing thing is confusing. I'd swear there wasn't a chair there a minute ago."

Fred took her arm and guided her to the chair. "It's OK, love. It wasn't there. Storm just conjured it up for you."

"OK..." Lada whimpered, then broke down into sobs, her head in her hands.

Fred knelt and wrapped his arms around her, and when Aribeth looked at him questioningly from the other side of Lada's chair, he nodded. Aribeth knelt and joined Fred in embracing Lada, while whispering soothingly to her, "It's OK, Lada. You're safe here, with people who love you and want the best for you."

Fred whispered to Lada, in agreement with Aribeth, "It's OK, love. Everything will be OK"

Storm crouched in front of Lada and pressed a mug into her hands. "Here, hon. This will help." The scents of chocolate and chamomile rose in the steam from the mug.

Lada took a sip and sputtered, then whimpered as she looked up with sad eyes.

Fred laughed softly and teased Storm with, "See? I told you. And I like  **my**  chocolate a lot stronger than she does." He gently kissed Lada's temple and said, "It's OK, love. It's not rude to ask for milk and honey. I promise." Then he looked at Storm and said, while taking the mug from Lada's hands, "Seriously, I think she could drink it more easily if it had about a half a mug of milk in it, and two or three tablespoons of that good honey your hives produce."

Lada turned beet red and looked down, trying to hide her face behind her hair, while saying, "I'm sorry I'm such a bother. I didn't mean to be bad. I'm sorry."

Fred sighed heavily. "Lada, you are not a bother. Seriously!"

Aribeth shot an annoyed look at Fred and gently spoke to Lada. "Lada, love, look at me. I promise, I won't yell at you."

Lada cringed away from Fred's voice, then looked at Aribeth, her eyes filled with confusion. Fred slowly, silently, banged his forehead against the back of Lada's chair.

"I know you don't know me," Aribeth said, "but Fred has told me many stories about you in our time together. So many, that I feel as if I almost know you. And now that I've seen you, I realize we could almost be sisters, parted only by the barriers of reality."

"Oh, no," Lada whimpered. "Great! So everybody already knows what a horrible person I am, and somehow I have...somehow I have to do what Bast wants me to do, and I'm so confused!"

"Horrible?" Aribeth asked. "What are you talking about? Fred loves you so much, I could feel his pain as he talked about you, about how much he missed you, about how much he worried about you. If there's anyone around here who deserves to be called horrible, it's not you, Lada." She looked up at Fred and grinned impishly as she added, "And he won't let me call myself horrible."

"That's right," Fred growled lovingly. "Because you aren't. Neither of you is. And if you continue to insist on calling yourself that, I may have to spank you."

Aribeth turned beet red and whispered, "Not here! Wait until we're home!"

"Wait...she said  **other**  wife!" Lada moaned. "But you've only been dead  **two weeks**!"

"Huh?" Fred and Aribeth said, in stereo.

"Two weeks?" Fred said. "I arrived here in 1370...that makes it...almost eight years."

"Two weeks?" Aribeth said, simultaneously. "I met Fred in 1372...that was a little over six years ago."

Lada rubbed her temples and whimpered, "If I wasn't confused before, I  **really**  am now. I mean, where have I been? It's only been two weeks! Huh?"

"It looks like you died, just like I did," Fred said. Aribeth shot him a frustrated look, and he said, "I mean, look at yourself. You have a brand new body."

"New body?" Lada asked, confused. "Well, it doesn't hurt...at least, I think that's what this feeling is...not hurting, I mean..."

"Trust me," Fred said, kneeling beside Lada and Aribeth. "I was just as confused when I was resurrected. It took me weeks to figure out what pain is  **supposed**  to feel like, when you don't feel it all the time. And that's not even getting into having normal vision."

Azalar stood and said softly to Storm, "I think I should head home. They need time to sort things out, Elminster hasn't returned, and I need to rest after dealing with that broken backroad. Let me know when they're ready to discuss what they need to rebuild the castle, OK?"

"Sure thing, hon," Storm said, also speaking softly. "If they can pull themselves together enough to manage it, I'll send them home, too. I think they need to work things out in their own home, where they have all the time and space they need."

Azalar nodded and headed for the door, resting a hand on Fred's shoulder as he passed. Fred looked up and nodded, then returned his attention to Lada. Aribeth shot a grateful smile at Azalar, then returned her attention to Lada.

Lada looked up as Azalar passed, started, then stubbornly set her jaw and said to Fred, "I'm sorry. Apparently, I was sent here to do a job, but I'm in no condition to start on it tonight. I'm sorry, but I'm going to need a crash orientation on this world so I can do it. I'm sorry. I'll go and do what I was sent here to do as soon as I can."

Fred pinched the bridge of his nose and let out a long, soft sigh. "Lada, what you need right now is a good night's rest. Why don't we go home and we can talk about this job of yours tomorrow." He looked up at Storm and said, "I'm sorry things got weird tonight."

Storm laughed. "Are you kidding? I  **know**  weird, and this doesn't even rank! And besides, you should never apologize for the actions of gods, nor should you apologize for taking care of someone you love."

Fred snorted, and Aribeth laughed. They stood, and Aribeth reached down, offering Lada her hands, while Fred got their cloaks and swords.

"Fred has the right idea," Aribeth said. "Why don't we go home, and we can figure things out there?"

Lada opened her mouth, as if to speak, then closed it, while getting a stubborn look in her eyes. Fred handed Aribeth her cloak and swords, then helped Lada clasp her cloak, before putting his own on. Storm gave each a friendly hug as they prepared to exit her house.


	5. Chapter 5

Fred, Aribeth, and Lada were about fifty yards from their house, when Fred stopped and hissed, "Hold it. Something's not right." He glanced into the woods on the left, then across the fields to to their right, and drew his sword, while praying, "Kelemvor, reveal to me the presence of unlife." He looked toward the house and saw the glow of undead auras, clustered around the tool shed, the outhouse, and the gates to the graveyard. None of them seemed any stronger than ghouls or skeletal warriors, so he pulled a pair of bracers out of his belt pouch and whispered, while donning them, "Aribeth, you take Lada to the house. I'll be in shortly." He grumbled, "Should have taken my shield with me. Oh well. Guess it just means I can use both hands on my sword."

Lada looked around, sniffing curiously, while Aribeth nodded and took her arm, drawing a sword with her free hand.

Aribeth whispered, "Should I join you once she's safe?"

"Nah," Fred whispered, "It'll be fine. There's only a half-dozen or so, and none of them is any more dangerous than a ghoul. I should be done by the time you get the kettle on."

"The last time you said that, I had to call in a flamestrike," Aribeth shot back, grinning. "Speaking of which, what's in your wand holsters?"

Fred rolled up his sleeves, revealing a wand in a leather holster on each forearm. "Wands of the Heavens, as usual. If you hear flamestrikes, activate the protection shell, OK?"

"I will," Aribeth said, "Now that I know you have adequate fire power." She stretched up to kiss him and growled, "You'd better come back to me in one piece, or I'll be very, very annoyed."

Lada whimpered, then meowed sadly at Fred.

"Umm...you just meowed at me," Fred said.

"Umm...umm...I don't know. Go. Whatever it is, it stinks!" Lada announced in a huff.

Fred leaned over and kissed Lada's forehead. "That's better," he said, then sheathed his sword, plunging them into darkness, before slipping away into the shadows.

Aribeth said softly, "This way, Lada. The sooner we're in the house, the sooner he'll be able to cut loose."

Lada took Aribeth's arm and followed her into the house. Just inside the door, Aribeth reached above the lintel and felt around in the shadows. Meanwhile, Lada wrinkled her nose as if she were smelling a bucket of week-old fish guts.

From the shadows in the corner farthest from the door, a dry, rasping voice said, "You're not going to get rid of me that easily, traitor."

As the speaker stepped out of the shadows, Lada's fear shot up, past terror, until something within her snapped and she snarled, her robe and slippers shredding around her body as she transformed into a lioness and leaped on the crypt spawn.

Aribeth spun at the sound of the crypt spawn's voice and crouched, both swords in her hands, a spell on her lips...only to step back and watch in awe as the lioness reduced it to chunks in a matter of moments. Outside, the sounds of flamestrikes coming down in the yard were almost enough to drown the crypt spawn's cries of surprise and fear as the lioness took it apart in savage sweeps of her claws. When all that was left was a broken skull, the lioness lay down on the floor and began to bat it between her paws, like a cat batting a ball.

Aribeth slowly approached the lioness, holding out her hand, and gently crooning, "Lada? It's Aribeth. Talk to me, love."

The lioness put a paw over the skull and growled defensively, "My skull! My toy!"

"Yes," Aribeth agreed. "It's your toy. It's all yours."

"My toy!" the lioness growled, then began batting the skull between her paws again. "Good toy. Safe. Not strange. Skulls are good."

Another flamestrike landed just outside the kitchen door, rattling the house with the thunder of its blast. Aribeth's attention snapped to the blast, then back to Lada. "Can you talk to me, Lada? It's OK, I promise. No more strange things. It's safe here." Another flamestrike exploded near the house. Aribeth winced. So much for 'no more strange things.' She sighed heavily. "Fred loves you, Lada. He'll be very sad if you don't come back to him."

The lioness humphed. "Fred went away. Left me alone. Too much, too much, too much, too much." The lioness covered her head with her paws, whimpering, and shrank back into her human form, leaving Lada curled up on the floor of the living room, surrounded by the pieces of the crypt spawn.

Aribeth picked Lada up in her arms and carried her up the stairs to the spare bedroom. After tucking her into bed, she pulled up a chair and sat beside the bed, crooning gently to her. "It's OK, Lada. You're safe here. Nobody's going to hurt you."

"Never safe," Lada whimpered softly. "No such thing as safe. Safe doesn't exist."

Fred bounded up the stairs, calling out, "Everyone OK? What happened downstairs? It looks like you went berserk on that Velsharoonie!"

Aribeth snorted. Trust Fred to come up with a term for Velsharoon's worshipers that was faintly insulting, without being blatantly so.

"Lada did," Aribeth said. She looked down at Lada and said softly, "I'm sorry, love. I wish your introduction had been a better one." Then she looked up at Fred and said, "She said Bast sent her? Well, Bast made her a lioness in the process."

"A lioness?" Fred asked, "As in, she's a shapeshifter?"

"That's right," Aribeth said. "When the crypt spawn came out of hiding, she transformed and hit it like a hive of bees hitting a bear. It didn't stand a chance."

"Excellent!" Fred said. "That's wonderful news!"

"Not really," Aribeth said, looking down at Lada sadly. "She's not sane right now. Speaking of which, we need to keep the skull, in case she remembers it the next time she transforms. She declared that the skull is her toy."

Fred winced and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Oh...my. Umm...So we really, really need a cleric who can cure insanity, huh? Maybe Ingmir?"

"Maybe," Aribeth agreed. "It's sad...she said there's no such thing as safe. Was her old life really that bad?"

"I...never told you about her past," Fred said. "You know she was born blind, and crippled? Well...her parents didn't want a blind, crippled child. And her entire childhood was spent trying to pay her parents back for letting her live."

"That's..." Aribeth shook her head, words for how disgusted she was failing her. She bent down and kissed Lada's cheek, whispering, "Sweet dreams, love," then rose to her feet and took Fred's arm, saying softly, "Hold me? I...I think I need it as much as she would, if she were awake."

Shortly after dawn, Aribeth and Fred were awakened by the sound of Lada screaming. They ran for her room, and found her sitting in the middle of her bed, clutching the bedding around herself.

"Lada?" Fred called, "What's wrong?"

Aribeth swept in and sat on the edge of the bed, then said gently, "It's OK, Lada. You're safe here."

"I...I...I dreamed," Lada stammered, "I dreamed I was in some kind of weird fantasy world, where you carried a glowing sword, and I turned into a lioness, and...and...and...and I could  **see**!"

Fred joined Aribeth on the edge of the bed and reached out to touch Lada's arm. "It's not a dream, love. You really are here, with us. You said Bast sent you, and I think I know why...but the most important thing is that you're here, and I love you."

"Oh..." Lada said softly. "Umm...umm...umm...Then don't you dare die again! Not that you could have picked dying...then don't die without me again!"

"Umm...OK," Fred said. "So...what do you want me to do with your skull?"

Aribeth acked and swatted Fred's thigh. "Be nice!"

"Umm...isn't it on top of my neck?" Lada asked.

"No, not  **that**  one," Fred said. "The one in the living room."

"In the living room?" Lada asked. "What did I do now?"

"Shredded a crypt spawn," Fred said with a shrug. "Good thing, too. She could have been annoying if you hadn't stopped her so effectively."

"A...crypt spawn?" Lada said, confused. "What's a crypt spawn?"

"It's a kind of undead creature," Fred said. "Sort of like a lich, but less powerful."

"A ...lich?" Lada asked. "Like in Dungeons and Dragons? But they're not real!"

"They are here," Fred said. "And you shredded something very like one."

"And how could I have done anything like...but I'm useless!" Lada protested. "I don't do...you must be confused!"

"No, Lada," Aribeth said gently. "He's not confused at all. I saw you do it. You turned into a lioness and shredded the crypt spawn like...how did Fred put it...like a cat through a demon?"

"Oh," Lada said in a very small voice. "Umm, that's what I'm supposed to do, I guess." She looked at Fred miserably and wailed, "I did something right today...and you're not going to let me forget it, are you?"

"No, I'm not," Fred laughed. "It goes on the calendar with all the  **other**  right things you've done." He grinned and teased, "You realize, of course, that the list of right things is so long that I can't even  **find**  the calendar any more."

"You can't find it because you died, and we're not at home any more!" Lada yelled. "Then again, the state repossessed the home, because you never got around to writing a will, so nobody has the home!"

Fred eeped. "Umm...I'm sorry. I...wasn't expecting to die like that, you know. It was...a real surprise. Even more of a surprise when Father offered me the chance to help save this world. Not that the job is done yet..."

"That's true," Aribeth said softly. "We've both been so concerned with staying alive, we only yesterday had the chance to think about what happened and realize that we needed to go back and finish the job." She blinked and said thoughtfully, "In fact, we had  **just**  reached that conclusion when you were shoved through the portal."

"Yes," Lada said, with a heavy sigh, "because my job is damage control, and always has been." Then she gasped and whimpered, "I'm sorry! I didn't mean to be such a bitch!"

Fred reached out and pulled Lada into his arms. "You're not a bitch," he said firmly, "and you never have been."

Lada cuddled against Fred, finally relaxing, her eyes half-closed as she let herself rest in his arms.

Aribeth smiled and brushed Lada's hair back from her face, then whispered, "You really do look like you could be my human twin. I wonder how that happened."

"I don't know," Fred whispered, with a playful smile, "but I'm very glad of it. She even translates for me like you do, so I guess she's your twin in more than just looks."

Aribeth saw the way Fred's gaze was traveling over her body, and blushed all the way down to her ankles.

"But...I don't look anything like you," Lada protested, "You're pretty...I think?...and thin!"

"Thank you," Aribeth said, smiling. "And you are just as pretty, and just as thin. Well, at least, as thin as a human can be, anyway."

"You can see well enough to tell that Aribeth is pretty?" Fred asked. "In that case, you should come look at yourself in the mirror."

"Mirror?" Lada asked, confused, "OK...well...I guess I did, didn't I? OK..."

Fred slipped off the bed and offered Lada a hand. Aribeth did the same on her other side.

Lada swallowed and took both hands, then followed the two into their bedroom, where they guided her to stand in front of a full-length mirror. Lada stood, staring into the mirror in disbelief, for several minutes, then stammered, "Th...that's not me. Is this one of those magic mirror things? I must be having trouble figuring out how to do this vision thing."

Fred chuckled and said, "Yes, that's you, love. Now, look at Aribeth, and you'll see that you really do look like you could be her twin." He grinned wickedly and teased, "And you're her twin in more than just looks, too."

"You!" Aribeth squawked, pushing Fred backwards onto the bed. "You...you...you...Arg! You are impossible!"

"Huh?" Lada asked, confused, "What are you talking about?"

Aribeth took Lada's hand and whispered into her ear, "He means, we both respond the same."

Lada's face lit up like a burning building, and she whimpered. After a moment, she yelled at Fred, "You told her about  **that**?"

"Huh? What?" Fred looked up, confused. "I told her what?"

"He didn't have to tell me," Aribeth said. "I just know how his mind works."

"At least he had an insightful babysitter all this time," Lada said. "Thank you. Well, babysitter's not quite the right word. What  **is**  the right word?"

"I don't know," Aribeth said, "but I understand what you mean. He really  **does**  have a problem with ordinary people, doesn't he?"

"People. Feh," Fred said, grinning. "Don't like 'em. Don't need 'em. Wouldn't live next to one."

"So what am I?" Lada asked, pouting.

"You're Lada," Fred declared, as if that answered everything.

Aribeth giggled and whispered to Lada, "Yes, he does that to me, too."

Lada looked at Aribeth and started laughing. Aribeth hugged her and whispered, "You know, if we were to kick him out and tell him to fix breakfast, we could get in a little more sleep..."

"Are you two plotting against me?" Fred asked, rising up to lean on one elbow as he watched Aribeth and Lada.

"Mmmmm...uh-huh," Lada purred, stretching like a cat. She stopped and looked over her shoulder, saying, "Umm...no crunchy noises? No pain? I could get used to this."

"That's how I felt when I first got here," Fred said. "For the first time in my life, I had an infinite supply of spoons. Is that cool, or what?"

"An infinite supply of spoons?" Lada marveled. She licked her lips, then squeaked, blushed all the way to her ankles, and buried her face in Aribeth's shoulder.

"Why don't you go down and fix breakfast?" Aribeth suggested to Fred. "I'll see if I can help Lada get...what was your term?... get over herself?"

Fred nodded, hopped to his feet, and slipped on a house robe and slippers, before heading downstairs. Aribeth steered Lada to the bed and said gently, "It's OK, love. There's nothing wrong with thinking that way about your husband or wife. Absolutely nothing."

"But...he's not," Lada said softly. "You're...nevermind."

"He's not?" Aribeth asked, a look of shock on her face. "With as much as he loves you, and you're not married? That doesn't make any sense!"

Lada shrugged, looking down. "My income was based on my being the disabled child of a disabled adult. If I got married, my income would have been cut down to a quarter of what it was. And we were barely surviving on our combined incomes as it was. If we had married, our income would have been cut to a little over half of what it had been separately."

"So...you...couldn't marry...because if you had, you would have starved?" Aribeth asked, shocked.

"And been homeless," Lada said.

"What kind of insane system would do that?" Aribeth asked.

"We called it Social Security," Lada said. "It was what our government did for disabled and elderly people."

"And they punished you for marrying?" Aribeth shook her head, too stunned to say anything more. After a minute, she said, "Well, you're not there any more. Marriage here is a matter between you, the ones you want to marry, and your Gods. The rulers have nothing to do with it."

"Ones?" Lada asked, surprised. "You mean, here, no one cares how many people? Or what gender they are?"

"Among my people that's true," Aribeth said. "And among the more enlightened human societies, like here in Shadowdale. Only in barbaric nations do they try to restrict who you can marry."

Lada sat on the bed, rocking as she thought about what Aribeth had said. Aribeth watched her rock and said softly, "Fred does that, too, you know? When he's really stressed or thinking hard."

"Tick," Lada said. "It's common in Aspies. Self-soothing behavior. Or blind people...which, I guess...I'm not any more."

"Aspies?" Aribeth asked. "He's used that term, too. I never really understood his explanations, though."

Lada absently tucked her hair behind her ears and said, "Well, it has to do with how easily he gets overwhelmed, and how hard it is for him to deal with people. Of course, without the pain, he probably has less trouble with both."

"Oh," Aribeth said. "That makes sense. He really does well as a ranger, because he gets along better with animals than he does people." She looked up into the corner of the room nearest the head of the bed and said, with a good-humored laugh, "Yes, I mean you, hon." A black widow ran out along her web and pounced on a fly that had just got itself caught.

"Ranger?" Lada asked.

"A kind of warrior, who's more a protector of wild things than a pure fighter," Aribeth said. "There's a lot more to it, of course, and I could teach you if you wanted, since I'm a ranger myself, but that's the essence."

"That would suit him," Lada said, "but what about Yinepu? I mean...think, think...Kelemvor?"

"From the story he tells us," Aribeth said, "when he was sent here, Yinepu...he said Elminster would more likely recognize the name Anubis...introduced him to Kelemvor, because he doesn't have a copy here, unlike Bast. Bast's copy in our world goes by the name of Sharess."

In the kitchen, Fred cooked breakfast, while frantically thinking:

_Who does spinning? Never mind that, can Bucko make a spinning wheel? I'll have to ask him as soon as I can get into town. And I'll have to ask if he makes knitting needles. There's plenty of people with sheep, so I should be able to buy all the wool I want. That's the ticket. Knitting keeps her sane. If I can keep her sane, maybe she'll be able to cope better, and maybe we'll be able to work out what to do. There's no internet, so she won't be able to talk to her friends...so we'll just have to introduce her to people here in the village who she can talk with. That'll help. Damn. Gonna have to remind her to not mention her feline side to anyone. I don't know how they'll cope with a lioness in their midst. I wonder if she'll be willing to do a proper wedding, now that she's here. I wonder if Aribeth would be willing to do a triple wedding. Gods, I hope so. I..._

Freki bumped Fred's thigh with his nose and whined. The smell of singed ham filled the room.

"Damn it!" Fred cursed, as he scraped the ham out of the frying pan and tossed it into Freki's food dish. "There you go, Freki. Hey, where's Midnight? I haven't seen her in days."

Freki looked up at Fred, shrugged, as if to say it wasn't his problem where that irritating feline went, then ambled over to his food dish and sat down to enjoy a leisurely slice of ham steak.

"But what's this unlife thing? Is that like...zombies?" Lada asked. "How does  **that**  fit under nature?"

"Zombies, skeletons, crypt spawns, ghosts...," Aribeth said, nodding. "But that's mostly his paladin responsibilities."

"Umm...paladin?" Lada asked. "What's a paladin? He can't just ever do one thing, can he?"

"Can you imagine how dull he'd be if he did?" Aribeth asked, laughing. "Seriously, though, a paladin is a different kind of warrior – one who's dedicated to serving his God. In his case, he's a paladin of Kelemvor. And Kelemvor  **hates**  undead. So, Fred will go out of his way to kill undead whenever he runs into them."

"Oh," Lada said softly. "Hmm. Well, he'd definitely be cranky if he was bored. And, frankly, I would go hide. So, if you don't have politicians here for him to be pissy at, at least you have unlife."

"Lada, love," Aribeth said, laughing again, "one of the reasons we settled in Shadowdale is the lack of politicians. I don't want to be in the same building when there's a politician around."

"He'd get cranky," Lada said, thoroughly distracted by her thoughts, completely oblivious to what Aribeth was saying, "or my things would get taken apart. Or large batches of soap would appear."

"You say he makes soap?" Aribeth asked. "Real, honest to goodness soap? Why didn't he ever tell me that?"

"He probably didn't think of it," Lada said, shrugging. "But...what's so amazing about soap? He started making our own soap because we couldn't buy any that didn't make us sick. And, he likes chemistry."

"Wait until you see the soap we have to use," Aribeth said. "If there were a reliable trade route from Evereska or Waterdeep, I'd order soap from there, regardless of the price."

Lada stared at Aribeth, a look of stunned shock on her face. "Do...anything...regardless of price? Huh?"

Aribeth hugged Lada gently, laughing. "Hon, there are some things that are worth spending the money on. And honestly, with all the money we accumulated while we were on the run, it's not a problem. I mean, Fred's put in an order with Jamble the Eye for a caravan load of iron pipes so we can have water inside the house. Can you imagine that? Water  **inside**  the house?"

"You...don't have...indoor plumbing?" Lada asked, with a faint whimper. "Speaking of plumbing..." She put her hand on her stomach. "Speaking of plumbing, where can I go to freshen up?"

"Freshen up?" Aribeth asked, confused. She looked at Lada's hand on her stomach and then got an inspiration. "Oh! You mean, you need to use the outhouse?"

"I was afraid you were going to say that," Lada whimpered. "Yes."

"Let's get a robe and slippers on you, first," Aribeth said, rising to her feet and opening her armoire. "No point in giving anyone passing on the road a free show, you know?"

"Uh-huh," Lada said weakly, a hand covering her face as she blushed and nodded. "Thank you."

Aribeth took out several robes, eying each one critically, before settling on one that laced partway down the front. "Here we go. Your breasts are so much larger than mine, most of my robes won't fit you." She put the robe on the bed next to Lada, then took a pair of slippers out of the bottom of the armoire and set them on the floor beside the bed.

Lada hugged herself, covering her breasts with both arms, and whispered, "oops?"

"Oops?" Aribeth asked, then laughed, as she slipped into a robe herself, and slid her feet into slippers. "Once you're dressed, I'll show you where to go. Then we can see how Fred's coming with breakfast."

Lada slipped the robe on and sighed while stepping into the slippers. "Ug. I guess my new body doesn't have a butt, either." Then she continued, sarcastically, "Yeah, having the pelvis of a thirteen year old boy is really great."

Aribeth blinked slowly, then asked, concern in her voice, "Is it really that bad? I'm going to have to take you to see someone at the House of Plenty, then. Today, if possible."

"House of Plenty?" Lada asked, then nodded. "Yes. Fred and I were both grateful that we were both infertile." She paused, then mused, "With modern medicine, a cesarean would be possible. But if you don't have running water, I'm betting you don't have cesareans."

"Since you have new bodies," Aribeth said, "I don't think you can count on that any more. But we have herbs that can prevent you from getting pregnant. And Glamerie may know solutions that are more effective."

"Oh well," Lada said softly, brushing a tear from her eye. "Thank you."

"Who knows," Aribeth said, smiling encouragingly, "she may know a solution that would let you have a baby safely."

Lada bit her lip and shrugged, then sighed. "Might as well get the outhouse experience over with."

Aribeth led the way back to the kitchen from the outhouse, mentally noting the damage Fred had done to her garden the night before. She paused just before the door and let out a shrill whistle, while holding the door for Lada. The whistle was answered a few moments later with a feline snarl from the woods, followed by movement in the brush across the road.

"Umm...what's going on?" Lada whispered, stopping just before the door and looking around in confusion.

"I'm just calling Midnight," Aribeth said. "She's a good girl, but she likes prowling in the woods, so I have to call her home every few days."

Across the road, a panther's head poked out of the brush, followed by the rest of the cat, as she stalked toward Aribeth, her tail flicking back and forth slowly.

"Oh! You have a cat," Lada said. "OK."

When the panther was about twenty feet away, its tail lashing suddenly got faster, and it snarled, "My elf!" at Lada.

"Um...OK," Lada squeaked, taking a step back. "Your...elf? Can I...can I be her friend? And...and yours?"

The panther bumped Aribeth's stomach with its head, then walked around her before sniffing intently at Lada. "My elf," it purred, then cocked its head in thought before deciding, "You may. But if you try to steal her..." It yawned, showing lots of sharp, pointy teeth.

"Why would I steal your elf?" Lada whimpered. "What would stealing your elf mean? And..and..and...do you like the scritchins? And the pettins?"

"Midnight," Aribeth chided. "Be nice!" She looked at Lada, confused. "The scritchins? The pettins?"

"Breakfast's about..." Fred said, looking over from the stove. "Oh. You made it home, Midnight. Good. There's a ham steak here with your name on it."

"I get ham," Midnight purred. "See how good humans treat me?"

"I got ham, too," Freki barked. "Dad's just a good provider."

"Stupid mutt."

"Annoying cat."

Midnight stalked into the kitchen, rubbing against Lada as she went through the door.

"Don't mind those two," Aribeth laughed. "They're always taking pokes at each other."

"Does this mean I pass," Lada asked weakly, "or is she going to leave hairballs in my bed forever?"

"What an  **interesting**  idea," Midnight purred.

Lada moaned, covering her face with both hands.

"Be nice!" Aribeth chided. "No hairballs!"

Fred leaned against the counter, laughing. "Two, or three eggs, Lada? Over hard, as usual?" The smell of burnt toast started to come from the stove. "Oops. Damn! Sorry."

"Food," Lada said, confused. "Oh, yeah. Food. Two, please." She turned to Aribeth. "I'm sorry. I feel like all you ever do is tell people to be nice to me."

"He doesn't usually burn the toast," Aribeth said, laughing. At Lada's apology, she placed her hands on Lada's shoulders and looked into her eyes. "Lada, you've done nothing to apologize for. If I tell someone to be nice to you, it's because I like you, and because I think they're doing something that I wouldn't want them to do if I were in your shoes."

"Oh," Lada said weakly. "OK. I'm confused, but that's becoming very chronic. Thank you."

"You're welcome," Aribeth said gently. "Don't worry about being confused. It happens to anyone when they first arrive in a new place. Admittedly, most new places are at least somewhat like the old, but...from the things Fred has said, our world is  **very**  different from Earth."

"Oh yeah," Fred laughed. "Very."

"Uh-huh," Lada said, laughing weakly. "At least I sort of know the language. So it could be worse. At least there are people here being nice to me. Thank you."

Aribeth hugged Lada, then guided her to a seat at the table. "Not just being nice to you, Lada. Mister talkative over there loves you as much as he loves me. That means you are family. And that means we are going to do everything we can to make sure you feel at home."

Fred blushed, but nodded. "She's right, Lada. The reason I agreed to come here in the first place, rather than going West, is because I knew I would be protecting you by coming here." He checked the eggs in the pan, nodded, and flipped them over. "I'll tell you why I knew that later, but for now, just believe me, OK? And Aribeth knows how much I love you, because when we were first getting to know each other, I would tell her stories of you, and she would tell me stories of the man she loved, and we each ended up knowing everything the other could tell about the ones they loved."

"Oh," Lada said weakly. "That's all I ever say any more. Umm...thank you. Thank you, umm...I'm sorry I was mad at you."

"I'm sorry I was mad at you?" Fred asked, confused.

"Remember, I yelled at you last night." Lada said.

"This morning, actually, but so what?" Fred said, shrugging. "You were stressed."

"Yes, he's like that with me, too," Aribeth said, laughing. "It's like he doesn't understand how anyone can stay angry with someone they love. Even while he holds grudges for years against people he doesn't care about."

Aribeth filled a kettle from a tank on the end of the counter, put it on the stove, then put tea in a teapot. "Do you like anything in your tea?"

"Cream," Midnight purred.

"She's right," Lada sighed. "And sweet, if it's black tea. So...Aribeth...you're an...elf? What does that mean?"

"How clueless  **is**  she?" Midnight mrowled.

"Be nice, Midnight!" Aribeth and Fred said, in stereo, then looked at each other and laughed.

Aribeth took Lada's hand and brought it to her ear. "Can you feel the shape of my ear?" she asked, while gently stroking the upper curve of Lada's ear with her fingertips.

"Yes," Lada said, uncertainly. "It's...oh! Pointed." She shuddered as Aribeth's fingers traced her ear, then pressed against Aribeth's hand and turned her head to nuzzle against Aribeth's wrist.

Aribeth let out a soft sigh as she took back her hand and whispered, shakily, "And very, very sensitive." She shook her head and took a deep breath, then said, more firmly, "That's the natural shape of my people's ears We aren't human. In fact, humans and elves are even less fertile together than elves are normally – and an elf family might have one child in a hundred years."

"In a hundred years..." Lada said slowly. "How long do you live?"

"The oldest elf I ever met," Aribeth said, "was a little over 700. But most elves only live to between 500 and 600. Well, most elves other than sun elves, anyway. Sun elves live to around a thousand, give or take a century or so."

"And how old are you, if I might ask?" Lada said. "I know that's a rude question. I'm sorry."

"Rude? Why?" Aribeth asked. "I'm 137. I'll be 138 on the 30th." She glanced at Fred's back and whispered, "I'm waiting to see if he remembers."

"You want him to remember a date?" Lada snorted. "You want him to have a concept of time? Then again, miracles seem to happen here, so..."

Aribeth laughed. "I know, I know, it would take a miracle. But he's surprised me in the past."

"Did someone call for a miracle?" Fred asked, laughing, as he delivered plates of ham, eggs, and toast to the table.

Lada giggled. "Thank you for breakfast."

"No problems," Fred said as he took a seat. "So what's on the agenda for today? Besides blessing graves, that is?" He sighed heavily. "I have this bad feeling I'm going to find a lot of empty graves this morning."

Aribeth reached across the table and squeezed Fred's hand. "You can at least bless the ones that are still untouched, sweetheart. Lada and I are going to go see Glamerie, then we'll probably go to visit Hoareb. Do you need us to pick up anything at the store on our way back?"

"Hmm..." Fred mused, while cutting his ham. "Well, you could stop at Bunko's place and put in an order for a spinning wheel, and see if he makes knitting needles. Other than that, see if there are any new spices at the store?"

Lada's eyes got wide and she "squee'ed" while looking at Fred. "Really?"

"Why?" Aribeth asked, then looked at Lada and asked slowly, "You...spin? And knit?"

Lada nodded excitedly. "Yes!"

"Then," Aribeth said, "we should probably ask around to find out who has wool still available this year. And we should try to put in an order for next spring's shearing."

Lada nodded. "Thank you!"

"Oh yes," Aribeth said, turning her attention to Fred. "You realize the flamestrike you called down in the garden hit right in the middle of the aubergines, right?"

"It...did?" Fred asked, his face falling. "Are any of them salvageable?"

"I won't know until I've had a chance to work with them," Aribeth said. "At least the pumpkins came through unscathed. They were the next closest."

"Oh, no, you like those," Lada said. "...wait... **flamestrike**?"

"Yeah," Fred said. "I wasn't wearing my armor last night, so I tried to avoid melee as much as possible. Flamestrikes took them out in groups, too."

"And left scorch marks all over the garden and yard," Aribeth teased. "I hope you remember where your work gloves are."

"What's that phrase from those Sparrowhawk stories?" Lada asked, tapping her lips and giving Fred a meaningful look.

"No fair!" Fred said. "I wasn't out  **hunting**  them! And besides, power armor doesn't exist in this world!"

Aribeth looked from Fred to Lada and back again. "Would one of you care to enlighten me?"

"The phrase," Fred said, "is, 'no armor, no nookie.' It's what the daughter of Bast in my stories was always telling her wife, a daughter of Yinepu." Fred grinned at Lada. "And since you're the only daughter of Bast in  **this**  house..."

"Then I claim all sunbeams," Lada said. "No, that'll make Midnight sad. Umm...then I claim half the catnip. No, I don't know. Then...then, then I need to go groom myself. Excuse me!" She got up and fled up the stairs.

"Life has just gotten a lot more interesting," Aribeth said, smiling.

"She has no dignity whatsoever," Midnight mrred.

Freki looked up at Fred. "Can I have her plate?"

"She didn't eat much," Aribeth said.

Fred looked at Lada's plate and said, "For her, that's a lot. She's going to have to learn that she can't get by on what she's used to eating. That's not going to be easy." He sighed and put the plate on the floor. "Here you go, Freki." Freki wagged his tail and wolfed down the food on the plate.

Once he had licked the plate clean, Freki looked up and whined, "She smells funny. Not human, not cat, more like both. Plus something else."

"Like I smell when I'm casting spells?" Fred asked.

"Like that, yes," Freki said.

"I kind of thought so. There's probably still a lot of divine influence on her from getting pushed into our world. It should go away in time." Fred reached down and scratched between Freki's ears. "Just don't deliberately scare her, OK, sillywoof?"

"I only scare my prey," Freki humphed, while leaning into the scratching.

* * *

 

"Would you like some help with your braid?" Aribeth asked, while standing in the door to Lada's room.

"Umm...yes, please," Lada said. "Umm...women my age...what am I trying to ask...I'm trying ask if women my age wear their hair up, down, covered, or uncovered? What I'm trying to ask is, what kind of hairstyle should I wear that won't get unwanted attention?"

"Unwanted attention?" Aribeth asked, "Oh! Don't worry, people around here aren't like the Bedine. You don't need to wear any particular hair or clothing style, as long as it's reasonably practical and modest." She entered the room, carrying a brush and a leather lace with her. "Given what people think of priestesses of Sharess, you may want to be more modest than usual, just to minimize the wrong impressions...at least, until you learn how to defend yourself adequately."

Lada looked down at her cleavage, swallowed, and squeaked, "OK. Do...do you have a shawl I can borrow?"

"It's a little warm for a shawl," Aribeth said, while sitting on the bed behind Lada and beginning to brush her hair, "but if you don't mind wearing leather, I can fit you out with a suit of armor that will be more than modest enough. And it'll help you if we have any more surprise visitors."

Lada chewed on her lip a moment, then said, "Oh. Functional, protective leather clothing, not something out of a fetish catalog."

"Fetish catalog?" Aribeth asked, chuckling softly while parting Lada's hair into strands for braiding. "You're going to have to tell me more about that, later."

Lada turned pink, chuckled weakly, and asked, "You mean, Fred hasn't already?"

"Let's just say that some things are better kept within the walls of the house," Aribeth said, then laughed softly. "Of course, just because we keep them within the family doesn't mean we can't occasionally surprise him. He's so much fun when it's the right kind of surprise."

Lada nodded and smiled, then said, "Mmmhmmm."

"So, Fred makes soap, does he?" Aribeth asked, thoughtfully working Lada's hair into a solid braid. "Does he also make candles?"

"Yes," Lada said. "Lip balm, deodorant, most things. Massage bars, lotion bars..."

"I'm not sure what any of those things are," Aribeth mused, "but it might just explain some of the things I've noticed in the kitchen of late."

"Thank you so much for doing this," Lada said. "The last two weeks of trying to do this have been absolutely horrible. What have you noticed?"

"I'm glad to help, love," Aribeth said, smiling. "After all, we girls have to stick together, right?" She chuckled warmly, then added, "I've noticed he's been saving the ashes from the stove, ever since we moved into the house, and he's been setting aside oil and fat, beyond what we use for cooking. He's also been buying beeswax by the pound, plus herbs and spices that aren't ending up in the food. When we were on the road, I would have thought there was something wrong, but now that we're in a permanent home, it's just been strange."

"I'm not sure about the ashes, although there's something tickling in the back of my mind," Lada said. "The rest of that, though, would definitely have to do with candles and soap and the like."

"And he hasn't said a thing about it," Aribeth said softly, thoughtfully. "I wonder if he's planning on a surprise..."

"Well, you did say your birthday was coming up," Lada said. "Didn't you?"

"Yes," Aribeth laughed. "It's just a little over a tenday away."

"So, the hard part's going to be not letting him know that you've noticed?" Lada asked.

"You're right," Aribeth agreed. "He has a way of getting information from me, even when I don't intend for him to." She laughed softly, "Of course, I'm not complaining...usually."

"At least I'm not the only one who can't help but tell him everything," Lada said, laughing.

"Your hair's ready," Aribeth announced, rose to her feet, and offered Lada a hand. "Shall we go find something more practical for you to wear?"

Lada reached back, felt her braid, and said, wonderingly, "Wow...I have so much more hair now...umm...yes, do you need help with anything?"

"Thank you," Aribeth said. "I could use a little help, actually. Fred usually brushes my hair for me, but he's busy doing whatever it is he's doing this morning..."

"Sure," Lada said, while following Aribeth. "How do you usually wear it?"

"I usually wear my hair down," Aribeth said, as she pulled her robe off, then sat cross-legged on the end of her bed. "Sometimes I'll wear archer's braids, but they're usually more trouble to put in than they're worth, especially when I can get the same benefit by wearing a good headband."

Lada sat on the bed behind Aribeth and began brushing her hair, meticulously working her way up from the ends so she didn't risk knotting it with the brush. "I've never managed to make a headband stay in my hair, which is why I usually wear a bun or twist, so my hair is certain to not annoy me."

Aribeth turned her head to smile over her shoulder at Lada. "Well then, we'll have to see what we can find in town, won't we? It'll be a fun day, and you'll get to see what Shadowdale is like."

A worried look crossed Lada's face, then she smiled brightly. "Yeah! I'm actually looking forward to it!"

"Why so worried, love?" Aribeth asked. "I'm glad you're looking forward to it, but do you foresee a problem?"

"Before...a day with even a quarter of the things you've mentioned, would leave me bedridden for a month," Lada said. "Well, maybe not a month, but at least a week."

"A week?" Aribeth asked, a worried look on her face. "What do you mean? Never mind. It sounds awful! How did you manage?"

"Fred and I took care of each other the best we could," Lada said. "Somehow we ate and...and the rest...well...," Lada shrugged, "...you learn to prioritize."

Aribeth hugged Lada, her hair forgotten. "I'm so glad you're here now," she said softly. "Now your priorities can expand, and we can be happy together." She smiled warmly and gave Lada a quick kiss, then rose to her feet and opened her armoire. "Speaking of which, if we're going to get out of the house today, you're going to need armor and boots."

"I'm glad I'm here, too," Lada said, smiling as she returned the hug. She froze briefly in surprise at the kiss. and watched as Aribeth rooted through her gear.

"Here you go!" Aribeth announced cheerfully, pulling out a suit of chain. "Let me see if I still have the shirt and pants that go with it..." A moment later, a thin quilted shirt and canvas pants followed the chain. "Perfect! This outfit is the most comfortable armor I have ever worn in the summertime. I don't know where it comes from originally, but my guess is Calimshan or Mulhorand. Either way, it keeps you as cool as if you were wearing silk and sitting in the shade."

Lada gave the armor a confused look, then muttered, "At least it's more practical than a chain mail bikini." She studied the armor, trying to decipher how to put it on, then asked, "What do you do about undergarments here? Is there somewhere to buy some?"

"Bikini?" Aribeth asked, curiously, while continuing to search through her armoire. "What's that?" She came up with a pair of high boots, announcing, "Here we go! Dragon Slippers! Just the thing to wear when you're trying to learn how to get by in a new place." At Lada's question, she paused and blushed deeply, "Oh! I...well, the only clothing I have like that is...far from practical. I'm sure Hoareb could help, though. Human women need them far more than elves do, after all."

Lada smiled and said, "A bikini is...like undergarments that are designed to be all you wear. Usually worn when swimming or sunbathing...but...for some reason...the people who write stories think they make great armor."

"Why would you wear clothing when swimming?" Aribeth asked, confused.

"Oh! And those impractical undergarments?" Lada suddenly said, "If they were made of leather, they would be fetish wear."

"Oh!" Aribeth said, blushing deeply. "I guess I  **do**  have some, then." She turned her attention back into the armoire and took out her own outfit, a suit of green leather armor with irregular patches of brown and darker green, with soft leather boots and a plain gray cloak.

While Aribeth was pulling out her outfit, Lada worked out how to dress in the chain, then looked down in surprise as it adjusted to fit her as if tailored. "Oh! Um...weird! But...nice! How'd that happen?"

"How'd what happen?" Aribeth asked, pausing in the middle of donning her armor and looking Lada over curiously.

"Uh..." Lada said, while sitting to slip on the boots. "This changed size. And...what's special about these?" she asked, holding up a boot.

"Oh, that," Aribeth said, smiling. "One of the nice things about magical armor is that as long as you're close to its size, it adjusts itself to fit you perfectly." She chuckled and added, "The boots make you lighter on your feet, and you can't be knocked down or frightened while you wear them. They also give you a nice resistance to spells."

"Not being frightened sounds like a good thing for me," Lada declared. "Thank you."

"That's why I thought you'd like them," Aribeth said, smiling. "They're called Dragon Slippers because the enchantment on them is powerful enough that even a dragon can not knock you off your feet, nor can it cause you to be afraid."

"A...dragon," Lada said, in disbelief. "Those aren't just in stories, either?"

"Oh, no," Aribeth said. "In fact, I've met a few." She sighed sadly, "Not under the best of circumstances, unfortunately...I'll tell you about that later, though. Sadness is not allowed today, right?"

"I'll do my best," Lada said, swallowing. She slipped the other boot on, then stood and asked, "Do I look OK?"

Aribeth looked Lada over and smiled, nodding, "Lada, you look beautiful." She moved her feet around to make sure her own boots were firmly in place, then offered her arm, while asking brightly, "Ready to face the world?"

"Thank you," Lada said, blushing, then nodded. "I'm as ready as I'm going to be."


	6. Chapter 6

The thirtieth of Flamerule dawned clear and cool, in the upper fifties, with moderate humidity. Fred heard Lada moving in the next room, and slipped out of bed, as quietly as he could. He grabbed a robe and slippers, crept out of the bedroom, and closed the door behind himself as quietly as possible, so intent on sneaking out without waking her that he completely missed Aribeth's smile. He slipped past Lada's room and crept down the stairs, not pausing to put on his slippers and robe until he was in the living room.

"Well, aren't you a fine one," Midnight mrrred. "So, have you decided yet that a bag of catnip is the perfect gift to give her?"

"Oh, there's catnip involved," Fred snorted, adjusting his robe as he stood, "but it's not for her. You and Freki had better have kept your noses out of the shed, too."

"Trust me," Midnight sneezed. "With the way that shed stinks, I'm not going anywhere near it."

"Oh, wonderful," Fred grumbled. "If you think it stinks, Freki's likely to think it smells yummy."

"It's not my fault you chose a mutt as your companion," Midnight humphed.

"Are you naturally that annoying, or do you work at it?" Fred muttered, on his way to the kitchen door.

After a quick trip to the outhouse, Fred detoured to the shed to check on its contents, before returning to the house. As he was reaching for the door, Lada opened it and exited, saw Fred, squeaked, said, "I'm sorry. I gotta go," and moved around him to head for the outhouse.

Fred looked after her thoughtfully, then shook his head and entered the house.

In the kitchen, Aribeth was up and about, stirring up the fire in the stove, with a fresh kettle of water sitting on top. Fred snuck up behind her and wrapped his arms around her in a hug, while nuzzling her left ear.

"Mmmmm...," Aribeth purred as she leaned back against him. "Good morning to you, too."

"So," Fred asked, after stealing a quick kiss, "Ham, bacon, or some of that excellent venison sausage?"

"Sausage sounds good to me," Aribeth said, smiling happily.

The door opened, and Fred glanced toward it. Seeing Lada come through, he grinned and began singing.

 _"Everyone knows someone we'd be better off without,_  
But let's not mention names, for we don't know who's about,  
So why commit a murder, and risk the fires of Hell,  
When black widows in the privy, can do it just as well.

 _'Now poison's good, and daggers, and arrows in the back,_  
And if you're really desperate you can try a front attack,  
But are they really worthy of the risk of being caught,  
When black widows in the privy, need not be bribed nor bought.

 _"So if there's one of whom you wish most simply to be rid,_  
Just wait 'til dark, then point the way to where the widow's hid,  
And say to them I think you'll find that this one is the best,  
And black widows in the privy, will gladly do the rest."

Fred laughed. "You know, Leslie really didn't have a clue about black widows. They're actually kind of sweet, as long as you don't scare them."

Lada whimpered and rubbed her face with both hands. "That helps my bathroom phobia. A whole lot. Thank you!"

Aribeth giggled and moved to hug Lada. "It's OK, love. He's constantly coming up with these strange songs. If he were a bard, he'd make a fortune, just because of how strange they are."

"Oh," Lada said, sarcastically, "Next he'll be roasting druids over an open fire."

Fred laughed and started in again.

 _"Clerics roasting on an open fire,_  
Goblins nipping at your nose  
Paladins, being hung higher and higher  
And thieves, trussed up in roasting rows,

 _"Everybody knows, some mustard and some mistletoe_  
Helps a druid taste just right  
Tiny trolls, with their eyes all aglow  
Know they will have a treat tonight.

 _"They know a party's on its way,_  
And there'll be lots of yummy characters to slay  
And every one of them is going to vie  
To see if cavaliers really know how to die

 _"And so I'm offering this simple phrase_  
To drow, and other creatures too  
Although it's been said, many times, many ways  
Happy feasting to you."

"I swear, if we run into someone named Raistlin, I'm going to run screaming for the hills," Fred laughed.

"Happy birthday, Aribeth," Lada said, "And by the way, he didn't write all of them himself. He just remembers them. Although, that one, I think he did write himself." She looked at Fred. "Didn't you?"

"Yup," Fred said, with a grin. "Wrote it for a contest, about twenty years ago. Or would it be twenty-five? Fifteen? Translating years between here and Earth is confusing. Anyway, I got an honorable mention for it. The winner was so demented, it made that song look positively tame."

Aribeth laughed and curtsied to Lada. "Thank you, Lada. Yes, I know he didn't write them all himself. No bard ever does, either. Of course, bards don't tend to write stuff that's quite that ...demented?"

Fred grinned proudly.

"Isn't 'demented' Fred's specialty?" Lada asked.

"Some days, it seems that way," Aribeth agreed. "So, we're having sausage and tea, and given that look on Fred's face, I suspect there's going to be potatoes and eggs involved, too."

"Yup," Fred said with a grin. "Heart attack on a plate, coming right up."

"In other words," Aribeth stage-whispered to Lada, "We'll have at least an hour to wake up and start the day before food is ready."

"Pbbbt!" Fred replied. "Good food takes time."

"But you said you were fixing heart attack on a plate," Lada complained. "Unless you invented the timer..."

"No need," Fred said. "It's a lot easier to cook on a wood stove. I just move the pan off the direct heat, once the sausage is browned, and everything cooks down just right."

"Uh-huh," Lada said, giving Fred a disbelieving look.

"It really does taste good," Aribeth said. "I wasn't so sure myself, when he first made it for me."

"I used to have the world's trickiest stomach," Lada said. "So, Fred would usually end up eating both servings of this mess, while I went and hid from the smell."

"Used to?" Aribeth asked. "So...that's not the reason you're starving yourself now?"

"I'm eating...huh? What?" Lada asked, looking confused.

"Seriously," Fred said. "You're not eating enough to keep a child fed, let alone a fully-grown priestess. Even if you're still trying to work out just exactly what it is Bast is allowing you to do, you still need to eat like an adult, or you're going to end up in the same trouble I did in college. Remember?"

"I eat when I'm hungry and I stop when I'm full," Lada insisted. "I know, you broke your ankle, but you were eating, what, once a week?"

"And still getting more nutrition than you are," Fred said. "How are you not feeling as crappy as you did back on Earth?"

Lada sat down at the table, her face screwed up in thought as she tried to work through the confusion. "Eat when you're hungry...stop when you're full...don't let your blood sugar get too high..."

"Don't what?" Aribeth asked, looking worriedly at Lada.

"Don't worry about your blood sugar," Fred said. "For starters, you don't have diabetes any more. And, the average adult in Shadowdale needs to eat at least three thousand calories a day, just to not suffer from malnutrition."

"Three thousand?" Lada complained, staring at Fred in disbelief. "If I ate that much, I'd be up to four hundred pounds in a week!"

"Not here," Fred said. "You're  **using**  that much, if not  **more** , just with all the training you're doing."

"But...but...but...," Lada sputtered, "Where am I supposed to put it?"

"Trust me, if you eat the right foods, it's not a problem," Aribeth said. "For starters, try eating foods that are more nutritious. Greens are OK, if you're a rabbit, but people need meat, and stews, and cheeses, and other high-powered food."

"But...but...but...," Lada sobbed, "That's what  **fat**  people eat! That's how I got fat in the first place!"

"Lada, love," Aribeth said gently, while moving to hug Lada and throwing a questioning look at Fred, "look at me, OK? Do I look fat to you?"

"That's what the doctors on  **Earth**  say," Fred said, moving to join Aribeth in embracing Lada. "We're not on Earth any more. It's a new world, with new rules."

"Uh...no?" Lada whimpered. "Is that the right answer? Is this a trick question?"

"No," Fred laughed. "Remember? New world, new rules? Besides, you're not a man, so you're safe answering her honestly."

Aribeth stuck her tongue out at Fred and said, "Stillsuit." Fred turned beet red.

"Oh," Lada said softly, then looked at Aribeth, confused. "Stillsuit?"

"It's a special outfit you wear in the desert," Aribeth said. "If you're rich enough, that is. It collects and purifies your sweat, so you never have to worry about getting dehydrated, or running out of water." She grinned at Fred and added, "When we bought them before going into the Anauroch, I asked Fred how mine looked on me. I thought he was going to implode." She giggled.

"B...before...when I couldn't see in the mirror," Lada said, "I'd ask him if I looked OK, before I left the house, sometimes. I wasn't fishing, I just wanted to make sure I didn't have lipstick on my teeth, or something equally embarrassing. He usually just gave me some noncommittal 'uh-huh.'" Lada giggled softly.

"Uh...uh-huh," Fred stammered, his blush deepening. "I need to get cooking, yeah." He fled to the stove and cut some sausage into the frying pan.

Aribeth watched him, laughing softly, then turned back to Lada. "We're both worried, though, Lada. And, seriously, I eat like I suggested to you, and you wouldn't exactly call me fat. Around here, the only people who get fat are people who sit around in their homes or shops and don't  **do**  anything. Usually, that means someone who's crippled, or someone who's so rich they can pay servants to do it all for them."

"I...I...I'll try," Lada whispered.

Aribeth sighed, hugged her again, and said softly, "Remember, we both love you, and we want the best for you."

* * *

 

"Is anyone home?" Storm called from the front door. Midnight grumbled and slunk out the kitchen door. Freki bounded to the front door and nosebumped her, wagging his tail madly.

"Hi, Storm!" Aribeth called, embracing Storm as she drew her into the house. "Fred's out back in the shed, and Lada's upstairs studying. Thanks for the help with getting her what she needs."

"I was glad to help," Storm said, smiling. She returned the embrace, then stepped back outside and returned with a long box, wrapped in shimmering, natural colored silk. "I thought you might have a use for this." She offered the box to Aribeth, then crouched to scratch behind Freki's ears.

Aribeth looked the box over, then set it on Fred's desk. Looking over the silk, she smiled and said, "This is beautiful, Storm. Spidersilk?"

"That's right," Storm answered. "Phase spider. There's about six yards there. But that's just the wrapping."

"Oh?" Aribeth said, playfully. "I never noticed." She laughed and unwrapped the box, carefully folding the silk and setting it aside. "I'll just see what we can do with this, later."

"I know a few patterns that you can use with it," Storm said. "I put copies inside the box, so you can pick and choose."

Aribeth smiled happily and opened the box, then paused, looking inside. She reached in and drew out a matched pair of longswords, one of which immediately burst into flame as her grip firmed on it, the other of which began to glow with an icy blue light and radiate a cold that made the worst day of winter seem like a warm summer's day. She stepped back from the box and tested their balance with a few strokes and thrusts. "Oh my! These are...perfect!" She carefully returned them to the box, noting that both extinguished when she released her grip, and hugged Storm happily. "Thank you!"

"I heard this rumor today is someone's birthday," Storm laughed, returning the hug. "Also, I have news for all three of you. I've already talked with Azalar, so whatever you do when you get the news, we'll manage."

"Are you in a hurry to leave, or would you like to try some sparring while you're here?" Aribeth asked.

"Sparring would be fun," Storm laughed. "We should probably do that outside, though. I wouldn't want to destroy the furniture, after all."

"All right. Just let me warn Lada so she doesn't think we're under attack." Aribeth crossed the room to the stairs and called up, "Lada! Storm and I are going out back to do some sparring. Do you want to join us?"

"Yes!" Lada called back. "Just a minute!" After a minute or two, she came down the stairs, staff in one hand and knitting bag in the other.

"Good afternoon, Lada," Storm said, smiling warmly. "How is your studying going?"

"Hello," Lada said, her voice slightly unsteady. "It's going...I've been able to make steady progress through the material."

"In other words," Storm said, gently, "it would help a lot if you had a Harper to help you make sense of it?"

Lada turned bright red and stammered, "I...I...I don't even know if I know enough yet to make sense of anything, but...eventually, yes," her voice fell, sounding sad and dejected, "I probably will need help."

"It's OK," Storm said, leaning on the banister and giving Lada a concerned look. "Everyone needs help now and then. That's why we have friends."

Lada nodded and smiled through tears, then said softly, "Thank you."

Storm smiled and whispered, "It'll be OK, Lada." Then she turned to Aribeth and said, "Why don't we go outside and let Lada catch up to us?"

"Good idea," Aribeth agreed. She touched Lada's shoulder and said gently, "Take your time, love. There's no need to rush."

Lada said softly, "Thank you." Her blush deepened, and she sat on the stairs, watching silently as Storm and Aribeth left the house.

Aribeth led the way around the house to an open area between the house, the graveyard, and the woods. Not far away, a wooden structure, like scaffolding, was rising around the well, and a spot of ground had been leveled and covered with smooth stone.

Storm looked at the construction work and shook her head, smiling. "So he's serious about building a windmill, is he?"

"He is," Aribeth said. She stepped away from Storm and swung her new swords a few times, to get a better feel for their balance and heft. "He's hoping to have running water inside the house before winter. Including an indoor toilet, of all things."

"Before winter?" Storm said, "Well, whoever manages things while you're gone will benefit from it, at least. Assuming Fred tells the workers how to install the plumbing, that is."

"Whoever manages...?" Aribeth asked, stopping and peering curiously at Storm. "Your news must be  **very**  interesting."

"It is," Storm said. "Very interesting, indeed."

"Maybe serious sparring can wait, then," Aribeth said. She crossed the yard and called toward the shed, "Fred! Storm's here! Come join us by the windmill!"

"Right now?" Fred called back.

"Yes! Right now!"

"All right!" Fred said. "Give me a minute!"

Aribeth turned to Storm and said, while raising her swords, "All we need to do is wait for them, then. Shall we?"

"Any time," Storm said, grinning and taking a ready position.

Aribeth leaped to attack, feeling out Storm's defenses and weaving a wall of steel of her own, in response to Storm's attacks. The two thrust and parried, laughing with the joy of being able to go all out without fear of either being overwhelmed by the other. Fred made his way from the shed and watched silently, in no hurry to stop their play. Lada arrived a minute or two after Fred, sat under her favorite maple tree, and took out her knitting.

Fred walked around the sparring and sat beside Lada. "I love you, you know. I'm glad you made it here safely." He glanced at the sparring and added, "Aribeth's right. She recognized it immediately, when we saw you. The reason I fell in love with her, is because she reminded me of you."

Lada put down her knitting, drew her knees to her chest and hugged them, and said, "I...I do love you...but...if I love you...why did I murder you?" She looked up at Aribeth and asked, "She reminds you of me? How?"

"Why did you what?" Fred asked, shocked. "What are you talking about? I died because it was my time. Whether it was my CPAP, my heart, or whatever, I was going to die, no matter what. You had nothing to do with it. Father showed me that it was my time, and gave me the choice of going West, or coming here to save this world."

"Oh," Lada said softly, lost in thought. "About a week after you ...passed... I was arrested. Initially on suspicion of murder, and then when the drug tests came back, for heroin."

"Oh...my...gods...," Fred growled softly. "Those...frakking... **assholes**!" The last was loud enough to get Aribeth and Storm's attention. They stopped and turned, then approached while Fred continued. "How the hell could they accuse you of murder? You did  **nothing**  to justify that! And heroin? What the hell? Didn't they believe your doctor? Gods...you were in jail for a week without your pain meds? No wonder you died! The frakking cops murdered  **you**!" He reached out to draw Lada close and hug her. "I'm so sorry, Lada. I wish I could have done something to prevent that. There is no way I would have wanted you to suffer like that. I'm so sorry. Gods...I love you, and they murdered you in my name...I'm so sorry..."

Lada whimpered at Fred's yell and cringed away from him, then when he reached out to hug her, she stiffened, then slowly relaxed as his gentle apologies slowly penetrated her fear.

"How could it...it's not your fault," Lada murmured, while curling against Fred. "The phone calls came from Arizona and Tennessee, saying it was my fault you died. And you were here, so you couldn't have called."

"My...mother," Fred growled softly, while hugging Lada protectively. "That...vicious, unmitigated, bitch. And...Tennessee...Consuelo? What the frak? Was she trying to punish you for getting kicked out of the house?"

"I  **am**  the root of all evil," Lada said sadly.

"If you're the root of all evil," Fred snorted, "I'm the queen of Cormyr."

Aribeth and Storm broke down into giggles, as Storm created an image in mid-air of Fred, dressed in the garb appropriate for a queen of Cormyr.

Lada peered at the image for several seconds, then began giggling, while Fred stuck his tongue out at Storm, then smiled and nodded at her. Storm winked at Fred, then whispered to Aribeth. Aribeth laughed and wagged a finger at Storm, who put on an innocent expression, but did not make the image vanish.

Fred hugged Lada close, snickering softly as he glanced at the image of himself, and waited until she had recovered from her giggles before speaking again.

"I wonder how my mother even discovered I was dead," Fred murmured. "Regardless, she had  **no right**  to make any accusations against you.  **None**! And as for Consuelo...that bitch should be locked up herself, for the safety of everyone around her!"

"The death investigators had to notify your mother as well as your sisters," Lada said sadly. "And, she hates me." She muttered, frustrated, "My father came up, supposedly to help me. I don't know why I even bothered calling them. He just made matters worse."

"I'm surprised he didn't end up in jail, himself," Fred said. "At least your mother didn't come up. She's so totally into denial, she probably would have believed you were guilty as soon as the charges were filed, because the idea that an innocent person could suffer like you did would never enter her mind."

"I'd like to think you were wrong," Lada said, "but I know you're not. She'd have condemned me as soon as the government did, or she would have told me, 'It'll all work out, honey. Just don't think about it. If you really didn't do anything wrong, nothing bad will happen.'"

"Never mind that Bast would not have chosen you for your mission if you were anything less than good," Storm said. "I gather that, on Earth, the gods aren't as active as they are here, so that little detail wouldn't have made a difference to your rulers."

"Or her parents," Fred muttered.

"I keep trying to remind myself of that," Lada said.

"Even if the government were to recognize a god as superior to itself, there's only one god it would recognize," Fred growled. "The god of a small band of desert bandits that has followers who declared every other god on the planet to be demons, devils, or false gods."

"That sounds insane," Storm said. "But if the gods aren't active, I suppose it could happen, if you have enough evil rulers and cooperative priests."

"That pretty much covers it," Fred said. "Human society didn't start to truly advance on Earth until enough people started standing up to the priests and declaring they would rely on themselves, not the church."

"At least we have good gods here," Aribeth said. "But before we get distracted by a discussion of philosophy, Storm said she has news for the three of us. Now that we're all here, I'd like to hear it."

"The three of us?" Lada asked.

"Yes, the three of you," Storm said. "But we should go inside to talk about it. I don't want to be responsible for two of you getting sunburns."

Aribeth looked at the swords in her hands and said, laughing, "I never looked to see if they had scabbards. Oops."

"They do," Storm said, joining her in laughter. "The scabbards are still in the box, on top of the patterns. I've already spoken with Lella about making whichever pattern you choose. El and I will take care of the enchantments, so don't worry about that. Just think of it as our way of saying that you're part of our family."

Fred rose to his feet and offered a hand to Lada. "Here, love. Need me to take your knitting?"

"Yes please," Lada said, handing Fred her knitting bag. "Thank you." She stood, then looked down at herself, with an expression of surprise.

"Yes," Midnight mrred from the branches overhead. "The twoleg can stand. Be amazed, world."

"Damn it, Midnight!" Aribeth yelled, "Why do you insist on tormenting her?"

Midnight recoiled, stared at Aribeth in shock, with her ears laid back, and backed against the tree trunk as if afraid Aribeth would strike her.

Lada broke into tears, grabbed her staff, and fled for the house, saying, "But Aribeth, this is her  **good**  behavior."

"I will not have you tormenting my Lada, Midnight!" Aribeth yelled. "Unless you can give me an acceptable reason for your behavior, I will dismiss you, right here, right now!"

"Can't you smell it?" Midnight whined. "She's not natural! She smells like human and cat and magic, and that is not natural!"

"She is the Claw of Sharess," Aribeth growled. "That means she has the touch of her goddess on her, the same way Fred has the touch of his god on him. I don't see you tormenting Fred like this."

"He never notices," Midnight grumbled.

"You're not helping your case any," Storm commented.

Midnight turned, leaped from the tree, and fled into the woods.

"Arg!" Aribeth screamed. "Why does she  **do**  that?"

"The worst thing," Fred said, "is that Lada grew up with teachers, parents, even so-called healers, who told her that if she was being teased or tormented, it was because she was wrong, she was different, she was somehow to blame for it. So if this has been going on since she got here, and badly enough that she thought this was Midnight's  **good**  behavior, she's probably convinced that she's inherently evil, bad, and deserving of everything Midnight did to her."

"Damn," Aribeth said, moving quickly toward the house. Fred and Storm fell in behind her.

"It's about time that cat got pulled up short," Freki growled. "She's been tormenting Lada every time your back is turned. And every time I tried to get between them, she'd pull out her claws. There's no way I'm going to go up against those claws...at least, not for anything short of saving her life. I can't believe she never said anything."

"She didn't," Aribeth said. "And I'm going to have me a panther-skin rug." She jerked the door open and stalked into the house. "I will not have the two people I love suffering because my cat gets a burr under her tail about the way they smell!"

Lada, sitting in the corner of the living room with a tray and polishing cloth on her lap, jumped, dropping the tray and cloth. She picked them up, then quietly crept into the kitchen to put the tray away and hang up her apron.

"Lada?" Aribeth asked, following her into the kitchen. "How long has Midnight been tormenting you? And what has she been doing to you? Freki says she's been doing it every time my back was turned, and that every time he tried to protect you, she threatened him."

Lada chewed on her bottom lip for a moment, then asked, "How long? Since I got...since I got here." She stammered and sighed, clearly afraid, then took a deep breath. "I...I don't...I don't know if she's doing anything...I don't...I don't understand a word Freki says, but I know she gets mad...mad at him...and talks about what an annoying mutt he is. I've heard her tell him to back off or she'd find out what his intestines looked like, and backed it up with claws...but I don't know why. I...," she sighed heavily, "I don't want him to get hurt. He's a sweetie. I don't think she...I really don't know, maybe he agrees with her, but I don't think he does. Maybe that's me being stupidly wistful." Lada shrugged. "I try to avoid her."

Aribeth reached out to take Lada's hand, led her to the table, and sat down beside her. "Lada, love, Fred told me about what those people in your past said, and I must insist that they were wrong. When someone torments you, it is not your fault. When someone torments you, it is their fault. They are wrong, not you. Did you not tell me, because you believed you were wrong, that you were to blame?" She looked into Lada's eyes and said, with all the caring she could muster, "Lada, if I had known what Midnight was doing, I would have stopped it on the first day. No matter what her reason, I will not allow her to torment you like that. And neither would Freki, if she didn't outweigh him by nearly three times his weight."

"While I do think I deserve what she's saying," Lada said, "I know I'm not rational about it. I know she reminds me very specifically of someone from the past, and so..." She sighed. "I'm just not thinking clearly. I'm just too triggered. I...I...I'm sorry."

"Lada," Fred said, sitting on her other side, "Triggered or not, you do not deserve what she did to you. Freki told us what she did, and how he couldn't protect you. I don't know why he didn't tell me..."

"Because you were always either in that smelly shed or doing your rituals, Dad!" Freki protested

"...OK, that makes sense...never mind, I do know why he didn't tell me now...but the point is, you did not deserve what she did to you, and you do not deserve it. You are a good person, you are deserving of much better, and, damn it, the two of us are going to make sure you get it." He paused and looked seriously at her. "If you'll let us."

Lada looked down and bit her lip.

Fred groaned and banged his head on the table. "Sweetheart, you haven't done anything wrong. I'm just trying to say that we can't give you what you deserve..."

"What he's trying to say," Aribeth said, cutting over Fred, "is that you have to learn to accept the good that people want to give you, or you'll never experience it in the spirit it's intended. That's something I had to learn, even after Fred rescued me from Neverwinter. It wasn't easy, either. I..." She looked down, squeezed Lada's hand, and said softly, as if trying to keep Fred from hearing, "I have trouble with it sometimes, even now."

Lada gave Aribeth a blank look, as confused as if she had just spoken in orcish, and with a strong undertone of disbelief.

Storm quietly took a seat across the table from the trio and listened, without saying anything.

"I'm sorry, Storm," Lada said. "You said you had news for the three of us?"

"Yes," Storm said. "My contacts in Waterdeep have discovered several things that lead me to suggest that the three of you should pack up for travel as soon as you can go." She held up a hand when Fred and Aribeth looked as if they were going to speak, and said, "First, the bounty hunters from the day before Lada arrived were only the first of many. How many are going to arrive in Shadowdale, we don't know yet, but we're working on preparing some ...lively... welcomes for them."

"So, we need to get out of town to give them moving targets?" Fred asked. "That's something we have plenty of experience with."

"That's only part of it," Storm said. "Second, some of my contacts in Arabel have found a nice set of claws for you, Lada. Remember, when you're in Cormyr, you have to be registered as an adventuring company, or keep your weapons peacebound. We're working on getting you a registration."

"I do not understand you," Lada said, looking at Storm while shaking with suppressed anger, and gripping the table to keep from wiping away the tears that were running down her cheeks. "First, you put me on the short bus, and then you offer something nice to me. Why do something nice for the fucking retard, unless it's out of sheer, unadulterated pity?" The dam broke, and her tears flowed as she curled up around herself and sobbed brokenly.

Storm sat back, stunned, staring at Lada as she broke down, then looked at Fred questioningly.

"Uh...Lada?" Fred asked. "Short bus? What are you talking about? Storm doesn't think you're stupid. Not even close."

"You weren't here when Storm got here," Lada muttered angrily, while trying to pull herself together.

"But I was," Aribeth said. "And I don't understand."

"Storm recommended remedial help for me," Lada said, "I think."

Storm looked more confused, but waited to see what answers the others could elicit.

"Remedial help?" Fred asked. "What do you mean?"

"Wait...," Aribeth said. "You thought...when Storm offered to help you with your studies...that she was..." Aribeth trailed off and whispered, "What kind of horrible teachers did you have on Earth? The more I learn of it, the less I want to ever be exposed to it."

"Wait, wait," Fred said. "Storm offered to help you with your studies? Lada! That's like Stephen Hawking offering you a place in his physics lab!"

"Huh?" Lada stared at Fred, totally confused.

"Seriously!" Fred said. "People come from all over Faerûn, just  **hoping**  she'll give them a place as her students. And here she  **offered**  you a spot. You are the luckiest woman on the planet!"

"But...but...but..." Lada stammered, "when teachers take an interest in you, it means you're not doing well enough! It means you're screwing up! It means they're worried about their passing percentages. Or you've otherwise done something bad to draw attention to yourself!"

"Lada, hon," Storm said gently, sitting forward and studying Lada intently, "I don't know what kind of teachers you had before, but if any teacher under  **my**  authority were to behave that way, I would strip them of their title and bar them from ever seeing another student."

"But...but...it doesn't make any sense!" Lada said, confused. "Teachers are busy people, and students are just grunts to do work for them. I know that! Well...at the graduate level. And undergrads are peons they have to put up with so they can do the fun stuff. But you're saying...huh?"

"Undergrads? Graduate level?" Aribeth asked. "What are you talking about?"

Lada sighed. "When you've finished the compulsory education, you can go to college, where you're an undergrad. And if you really...if you really like school, or want a certain type of career, you go on to graduate school, which is a higher level. Not that I think I'm anywhere near past even the beginning of compulsory education." She let out a sad bark of a laugh, then sighed. "I'm sorry. I'm such a fuck-up."

"Fred? Can you?" Storm asked.

"On Earth, schools aren't designed to educate," Fred said. "They're designed to instill mass obedience, by teaching children that their interests mean nothing, that anything they do is regulated by someone else's schedule, and that anyone of higher rank than them has the power, authority, and right to control their lives, down to medicating them into near unconsciousness if they don't readily submit to authority." Fred gritted his teeth, maintaining his best level of self-control as he took a deep breath, then continued. "After twelve years of that kind of indoctrination, starting when they are five years old, they are dumped into the adult world, without any experience or training in making decisions for themselves, in exercising independent judgment, or anything else, other than submission to authority. On top of that, a lot of careers on Earth require a college degree in order to even get in the door. So, these kids who just had twelve years of indoctrination in submission to authority go off to college, where they are quickly taught that whatever they think they went to learn is secondary to learning that their purpose is to ensure that the school has enough money coming in from tuition, donations, alumni programs, and so on, to keep the professors satisfied in their research projects, while higher level students - the graduate students - actually do the work of giving them what little teaching they get. And, those who survive to get a diploma - and are either going into a career or studying a field that requires more training than what is represented by the diploma - learn quickly that rather than getting additional training, their purpose is to provide menial labor for the professors, including teaching the lower level students, until they have survived long enough to get the certificate that says they are masters of their field, or doctors of their field."

"You mean...someone can be considered a master of their field, without even having to demonstrate mastery?" Aribeth asked, looking and sounding confused.

"Yes," Fred said. "All they need is a piece of paper from an approved college that says they are a master of their field."

"What about apprenticeships?" Storm asked.

"Those are restricted to manual labor careers, such as carpentry and plumbing, that are looked down on by the rest of society."

"That is the most backward society I have ever heard of!" Storm declared. "So...what in the world is a 'short bus'?"

"Well," Lada said, "all children are required to do the first twelve years of school, no matter how..." she grimaced "...crippled or 'slow' or 'touched' they might be," she made motions with her fingers to indicate quote marks in the air. "So those kids don't get lost on the way to school, they get picked up in a ...ummm... wagon, that's smaller than the ones the other kids do. So, as soon as these kids arrive at school, everybody knows they're different. It's called special education, but a lot of times, what's recognized most is the short bus. These kids get special classes, a lot of times, but the quality is honestly frequently less than even what the rest of the kids get. I got lucky, and got out of the public school system, but..." She shrugged.

"And what she means," Fred said, "by 'everybody knows they're different', is that the so-called 'normal' kids at school see them as perfect targets for torment, often with the indifference, if not active encouragement, of the teachers. For instance, I knew someone who was an Aspie, like me, who was pushed down the stairs by other kids at school, on an almost daily basis, and the teachers told her that it was her fault, because she embarrassed the other kids by being too smart. She was in special education because of her aspie traits, not her intelligence or physical disability. I've heard of other kids who were raped in school, and nothing done to their rapists, because the school staff considered them too stupid to understand what had happened to them, all because they were in special education."

"You make these schools sound like chambers of horrors!" Storm gasped.

"Perfect breeding grounds for little Zhents," Fred said. "The only thing that keeps Earth from being like Zhentil Keep is that too many kids refuse to submit to authority."

"I'm so sorry I got him started," Lada said. "And, more importantly, I'm sorry I got angry. I'm sorry I...I'm sorry I made a scene. I'm sorry I yelled. It wasn't justified, and I was wrong, and I'm so mortified."

"Thank you," Storm said. "While I disagree with your belief that what you did was wrong, now that I understand why you did it, I appreciate your apology. If I were in your shoes, I probably would have bit my head off right away, rather than waiting for so long." She glanced at Fred, who was displaying an outrageously over-acted bit of injured dignity, and began to giggle. "As for him...he's not  **my**  husband, after all."

"Huh?" Lada sputtered, "He's not mine, either"

"Only due to a lack of priests," Storm said. "And I happen to know there's a festhall  **and**  a temple of Kelemvor in Arabel, so if you want to take care of that lack, you have the opportunity."

Fred slid off his chair and sank to one knee beside Lada. "Lada, sweetheart, I've said it before, and I'll ask you again. Will you marry me?"

Aribeth asked, from Lada's other side, "And me?"

Lada looked down at Fred and said, "You're going to hurt yourself! I can't get you up off the floor!" She wiped her eyes and stammered, "Oh...oh...you hate it when I don't answer your questions..." Storm and Aribeth broke into giggles. Lada squeaked, "Me?" She looked at Aribeth and squeaked again, "Me?" She bit her bottom lip, hard enough to draw blood, and nodded, then managed, somehow, to find the strength to squeak out, "Yes?"

Aribeth and Fred both embraced her, one on each side.

"This is the best birthday present ever," Aribeth whispered to Lada.

"Oh..." Lada stammered. "It's...it's...it's upstairs."

"Huh?" Aribeth asked, confused.

"I'll be right back," Lada said, "but, Storm?"

"Yes?" Storm answered, smiling warmly.

"I wouldn't have yelled earlier," Lada said. "It wouldn't have been right. If someone genuinely thought I needed extra help, and took the time to tell me, the responsible thing to do was to acknowledge the problem and deal with it."

"Even if you felt that you didn't need the help?" Storm asked.

"It doesn't matter," Lada said. "What matters is using the experience as a reason to work harder, no matter what."

"I see you have a lot to learn, then," Storm said. "Self confidence is a vital part of being a priestess."

"You know that feeling you have after helping me bless graves?" Fred asked. "How would you describe that feeling?"

"Tired," Lada grumped, while shrinking in on herself, as if slapped. "I haven't gotten it right yet. I'm retaining too much of it. I'm being selfish, or greedy, or something."

"Lada, love," Fred said gently, "Every single grave you've blessed has been perfect. If you'd had a teacher, rather than just having the knowledge downloaded into your brain, you'd know that it is the nature of blessings -  **all**  blessings - that the priest doing the magic receives a portion of the blessing himself. This is why priests who do a lot of blessings become closer and closer to their gods as time goes by - each blessing they do leaves them with a little more divine energy, drawing them closer and closer to their god."

"I don't understand," Lada said. "These blessings aren't meant for me at all, and I know I have a lot to learn, and I know I have a problem with being cocky, and I don't want...and I'm very afraid of that happening again."

"What you mean," Fred said, "is that you have a problem with assholes  **accusing**  you of being cocky. And, yes, the blessings aren't meant for you, and that's why you are granted an echo of them when you pass the blessing on from your god to the intended recipient. Only someone who is willing and able to pass on the blessing without trying to keep any for themselves is able to give the blessing at all. And the gods give you a portion of that in recognition of your selflessness in acting as their implement."

"Being cocky?" Storm asked. "I haven't seen any evidence of that since you came here. If anything, you are anti-cocky. You are as far from being cocky as Bane is from being good."

"Gods appreciate their followers?" Lada asked, confused. "And don't find the presence of self-esteem to be too prideful?"

"Has anyone told you about the Time of Troubles?" Storm asked.

"I've seen references to it, but I haven't gotten that far yet," Lada sighed in frustration.

"Why don't you run up and get what you were going to?" Storm suggested, "and when you come back, I can tell you about it. The Time of Troubles is a very important part of our recent history, because it directly affects how the gods treat their followers."

"You know," Fred said thoughtfully, after Lada had left, "I get the feeling Bast didn't tell her that the gods here are  **nothing**  like the Christian god. Well, other than gods like Bane, Loviatar, Shar..." He sighed heavily. "That means she  **really**  needs to learn about the Time of Troubles. And about what  **good**  gods expect from - and give - their followers."

"Beyond that," Aribeth said, "what both of you said about education on Earth makes it sound like teachers have no value there."

"They don't," Fred said. "An old saying on Earth is, 'Those who can, do. Those who can't, teach.' It didn't used to be true, back when even doctors and lawyers learned by apprenticeship, but now, teachers are consistently taken from the ranks of those who failed at every other thing they tried, and as a result, are given the payment and respect you'd expect to be given a failure."

"That's..." Storm paused, lost for words. "I'm not sure whether to describe that as sad, depressing, or infuriating. But then, it's another world, so all I  **can**  do is be sad about it."

"Then I'm afraid I have something to tell you that will make you more sad," Fred said. "There are actually people who  **want**  to teach, who believe they can do some good by teaching. And those people get submerged into this system, surrounded by all the others, who are just there to get their paychecks and stick it out until they retire. I would guess there may be three or four out of every hundred teachers, who are actually real teachers, and not just people who have a piece of paper that says they are teachers. In all my years of school, between compulsory schooling and college, that's how many I met. Total. That's why I don't usually bother looking for teachers even now, when I know I should. My experiences in the past make it hard for me to believe that I might actually find a real teacher."

"You're right," Storm said. "The thought that there's a system out there that produces both her fear of teachers, and your belief that real teachers are as thin on the ground as good drow, does indeed increase my sadness."

"So, were those two things all you had to tell us?" Aribeth asked.

"No, there's more, but I'll wait until Lada gets back," Storm said. "Until then, how are your plans for the castle coming?"

"I've been working on them whenever I have a free minute," Fred said. "I think they're just about ready to hand off to a contractor. Only problem is, finding one."

"A contractor?" Storm asked.

"Someone who supervises the construction crews," Fred said. "A contractor makes sure the masons, the carpenters, the heating people, the plumbers, the roofers, and all the others you need to build something, are working in coordination with each other, so the project is done the way it's written up in the plans."

"Oh." Storm considered that for a bit, then shook her head. "I'm not sure we have anyone like that. We don't normally have building projects that require that kind of coordination, and some of the things you mentioned, like plumbers, simply don't exist."

"Oy, will this be fun, then," Fred muttered. "So, who around here is looking for work, has the ability to learn new things, and is willing to give it a try?"

"I can think of a few people," Storm said. "That would take care of your specialists. But as for a contractor...why don't you let me see those plans?"

"Are you sure you want the headaches?" Fred asked, while walking into the living room. "Getting different kinds of builders to work together seems to me like it would be as fun as herding cats."

"No, I'm not sure," Storm said, smiling ruefully, "but I'm sure that if I can figure it out, I can find someone to teach how to do it and let them take over. After all, the castle is a project that will take quite some time to complete."

"True," Fred said, returning with the plans rolled up in a thick bundle in his hands. "Here we go."

Storm stood and looked over Fred's shoulder as he unrolled the plans. Aribeth sat back, out of the way, and shook her head, smiling, as the two began discussing the details of Fred's design.

"Are you sure you're not a Gondite?" Storm asked, as Lada walked into the kitchen. "This whole page here seems so much like them."

"Nope," Fred said. "Not a Gondite. This is stuff I did in Boy Scouts. The hard part is getting the magnets for building the generators, but if we can manage that, everything else is easy. Expensive, true, but easy."

"I'll say," Storm said. "The amount of cotton alone is enough to bankrupt some small countries."

"Yet another reason to be thankful I ran into Klauth," Fred laughed. "His hoard was big enough that, if not for the portable holes I found, both in his hoard and in other places, I would not have been able to carry it all away."

Aribeth looked up, then smiled and stood, asking, "Need some help with that, love?" as she walked over to Lada, who was carrying a basket full of books and an unidentified bundle.

"Yes, please," Lada said. "Can you take this bundle? It's for you."

"Oh?" Aribeth asked, taking the bundle off the basket and looking at it. It was wrapped in a piece of brightly-colored fabric and tied with string. She waited until Lada had put the basket down on the table, before untying the string and opening the package. Inside was a band of knitted lace, narrow at each end, and wide in the center, with a pattern running its entire length that looked like a row of leaf triplets, with eyelets outlining them. At one end was a button hole, while the other end had a button made of polished bone. Aribeth studied the band for a few moments, then smiled and picked it up. "This is beautiful!" She said, as she turned away from the others, then wrapped it around her head, with the center over her forehead and the ends behind her neck, below her hair, and buttoned in place. After adjusting it a moment, so it held her hair above and behind her ears, she turned so that the others could see how it looked. As she posed, she smiled as if she had just received a blessing from Sune.

"You're welcome," Lada said, then blushed deeply.

"Thank you!" Aribeth said, all but bubbling with happiness. "No one has ever given me something like this before. It's beautiful, and it's perfect!" She reached out and took Lada's hands, as if she wanted to hug her, but was holding herself back for the moment.

"It truly is," Storm said. "If all your knitting is of that quality, you could make a fortune, selling it to people who don't have someone to knit for them, or who have too many people to knit for themselves."

"I think you're overwhelming her," Fred said. "Go ahead and sit down, Lada. Want some tea?"

"Tea?" Lada squeaked. "Umm...yes? Please?"

"OK," Fred said, heading to the stove and moving the kettle over the fire. "Tea coming up." While he bustled about, getting the tea pot and cups ready, the kettle began to steam. Fred spooned tea into the pot, then poured in water and set it aside to steep, after choosing a timer and flipping it over so the sand began to run.

"Those are the books I've read," Lada said, "I thought I should return them before we left."

"Oh," Storm said. "Thank you. You really  **have**  been studying." She smiled warmly. "Fred told me you would push yourself like that, so I shouldn't dump that many books on you at once. I hope you didn't burn yourself out."

Lada looked at Storm in confusion.

"Even if she did," Fred said, grinning playfully, "she wouldn't admit it. After all, that might mean she had to talk to a teacher."

"Be nice," Storm and Aribeth said, in unison. Fred pouted in response.

"Uh-oh," Aribeth said, laughing, and reached out to touch Lada's shoulder. "Fred's pouting. I think we need to fix that, don't you?"

"Huh?" Lada asked, peering at Aribeth in confusion.

"The only thing I've found that cures his pouts is a kiss," Aribeth whispered to Lada. "Why don't you give it to him?"

Lada squeaked and turned bright red, then glanced around frantically, as if she were looking for a place to hide.

Aribeth sighed and hugged Lada gently, then said, "It's OK, love. Nobody is going to make you do anything you don't want to." She looked at Fred and said softly, "I think she's had enough teasing for today, don't you?"

"I do," Fred said, moving to gently touch Lada's cheek with his hand. "Lada? It's OK You don't have to hide."

Lada's face tightened, as if she were trying desperately to avoid breaking into tears. Fred took her hand and said, "We'll be back in a few minutes. Aribeth, would you take care of the tea? Thanks." Then he led Lada into the living room, out of sight of anyone else. "OK, love. We're alone now."

Lada looked up at Fred and said unsteadily, "I'm sorry I got you in trouble."

"Huh?" Fred asked. "What trouble?" He hugged Lada and said softly, "You didn't get me in trouble. I led you in here so you could cry if you wanted."

"But you hate it when I cry," Lada said.

"No, I hate it when something makes you cry," Fred said. "It's not that I hate it when you cry. It never has been. It's always been that I hate knowing something made you cry, and I can't do anything about it."

Lada nodded, then murmured, "I never get anything right. Not even now." She sighed. "I'm sorry. I'm not supposed to talk like that."

Fred led her to the chairs by the fireplace and sat, gesturing to a chair next to his. "Lada, love, I know you believe that, but honestly, it's better to talk about it, and try to find a solution, than it is to believe something like that and keep it bottled up inside where no one can help you fix it. Just look at all the things you've done right, just since you got here, huh?"

"But I never communicate right with you," Lada said. "I never have. And Julie's not here. And you're so busy. And I'm not supposed to bother you unless I need something, and I'm supposed to be able to take care of myself now." She sniffed. "I'm trying to. I'm just not good at it."

"No, you aren't," Fred said. "And I don't expect you to be. Not for  **months**  yet. I mean, seriously, you're in a new body, with new abilities and senses, and if you weren't overwhelmed by that, I'd be worried. On top of that, you're in a different world, where social, ethical, even physical, laws are different, and you have to learn how to deal with all that, on top of learning to deal with your new body. And, you've been trying to learn how to integrate all that data Bast downloaded into your brain, and learn how it works, how it relates to everything else, and how it affects you. On top of all that, you still have to  **unlearn**  all the brainwashing you were subjected to back on Earth." He sat back thoughtfully, and said, "Honestly, I'm amazed at how much you've managed in the short time you've been here. You've done an amazing job already."

"You really think so?" Lada asked, her voice small and hesitant.

"Yes, I do," Fred said. "What you've done in the short time you've been here makes me proud to be someone you love."

"Thank you," Lada said softly. "I miss you."

Fred rose from his seat, knelt in front of Lada, and looked up at her, holding her hands. "Lada, I love you. You don't ever have to miss me. I love you. You can  **always**  come to me, be with me, lean on me, it doesn't matter what it is, I am  **always**  going to be here for you."

Lada sighed and said softly, "OK."

Fred closed his eyes and rested his head on Lada's knee, then whispered softly, "I'm trying, love. I know I'm not perfect - not by a long shot - but I'm trying. Hopefully, I'm doing it better than I did on Earth." He looked up and added, "That's why I brought you in here, instead of trying to get you to wrap things up in the kitchen."

Lada absently scratched Fred behind the ears. He smiled and teasingly whispered, "Woof."

"I love you," Lada said softly. "I guess I need to give both of us a chance. You do seem different in ways. I don't understand, but nothing feels right. The only thing that seems constant is I'm still a fuck-up."

"That's only because you're not giving yourself a chance," Fred said. "I know what you mean about nothing feeling right, you know. I didn't really start to get really used to all the newness until I was at the Academy, and was getting stuff thrown at me so fast I didn't have time or energy left over to feel not quite right. I kind of hoped you'd get more of a chance than that, but I guess that's not going to happen. I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault," Lada said.

"In a way, it is," Fred said. "If I hadn't been focused on saving Aribeth from being executed, and getting out of Neverwinter without both of us being killed, maybe things would be different now."

"Aribeth, executed?" Lada asked, confused. "Huh?"

"Yes," Fred said. "It's a long story, but the Reader's Digest version is that she was one of the Knights who protected the ruler of Neverwinter. She was put in charge of finding a cure for a plague known as the Wailing Death, that killed people so thoroughly they couldn't even be resurrected. I worked for her, and between us, we found the components for the cure. But, while we were working on that, a group of cultists was not only spreading the plague with their magic, but apparently did something to the ruler and the high priest of the temple of Tyr, so that even after we found the cure, they were still controlled by the entities that created the plague. Aribeth's fiancé was executed because he had been thoroughly bamboozled by the leader of the cultists. While Aribeth was grieving for him, the leader of the entities that had created the plague tormented Aribeth with nightmares. Every night. For over four months. Until Aribeth broke, believed the horrible things that she had been tormented with in her nightmares, and joined the cultists and their new leader, as the general of their armies. They attacked Neverwinter, because the entities that were in charge of it all were in an extradimensional space beneath the palace, and they needed the cultists in order to escape the space. I managed to find Aribeth, save her from the control of the creature that was masterminding it all, and sent her to the palace, where they put her in the dungeon while they decided what to do with her. When I discovered they planned to sacrifice her in some ritual that involved a slow and torturous death, I grabbed her, escaped from the palace, and we ran. It took us five years to get here, avoiding cities, staying off the main roads, even spending a couple years in the Anauroch, but when we got here, Elminster, Storm, and Azalar decided to accept us as citizens of Shadowdale. That was just under two months ago."

"I had no idea...you've been so busy," Lada said uncertainly. "But everybody acts like you've been here forever. At least you finally found a girl you can help, unlike me."

Fred rose to his feet and hugged Lada. "I love you. I'm not giving up on you. Period."

"You're the only one who hasn't," Lada said. "Thank you."

Fred hugged Lada again, not saying a word. Freki wandered in from the kitchen and stuck his nose into Lada's lap, then wagged his tail and looked up at her hopefully.

Lada hesitantly turned her head to kiss Fred's cheek, just in time to catch him when he turned his head, so the peck on the cheek turned into a real kiss. She opened up to him, her arms holding him tight while he held her close and kissed her deeply and thoroughly. Freki flopped down on the floor with a soft whine of, "Why do they always do that when I want petting?"

Fred tried to keep from laughing, but he gave in, snickering and whispering to Lada, "Silly woof. He's complaining about wanting petting."

"I thought you were my silly woof," Lada whispered. "Oh, wait. You're my silly jackal."

Fred grinned. Freki snorted. "Dad doesn't have enough common sense to be a wolf."

Fred stuck his tongue out at Freki. "Brat."

"Huh?" Lada asked, looking between Fred and Freki in confusion.

"He just said I don't have enough common sense to be a wolf," Fred humphed.

"That's because you're a jackal, not a wolf," Lada said. "Or were. Hmmm."

"Yeah," Fred said. "The drawback of Yinepu not being in this world. But Kelemvor's a good man...well, god. And Yinepu picked him out personally, so I'm not complaining. Obviously, we agree on many things, or I wouldn't be as advanced in his service as I am, or planning on building an abbey like I am."

"Building an abbey?" Lada asked, a mixture of confused and surprised. She muttered, quietly, "You and your grand schemes. You can actually pull them off now. Uh-oh."

"Why, which grand schemes could you be thinking of?" Fred asked, an innocent expression on his face.

"Y..you!" Lada sputtered, then laughed.

Fred hugged her and smiled as he teased, "I do have some schemes in mind at the moment...but they're not grand at all. Just very...very...personal."

"But," Lada gasped, "it hasn't been six months!"

"Infinite spoons, remember?" Fred said, grinning as he looked into Lada's eyes.

"Uh...uh...uh...bibble?" Lada stammered. "I didn't think I was that inspiring."

"Well, now you know," Fred said, reaching out to stroke her ear gently. "And knowing is half the battle."

"I...I'm inspiring?" Lada stammered.

"You're inspiring," Fred said.

"Would you two get a room?" Freki grumbled. "The smell is clogging my sinuses."

"Good idea," Fred said. He called out, "Storm, Aribeth, we'll be back in an hour or so!" Then he scooped up Lada and headed for the stairs.

Lada squawked in surprise as Fred scooped her up, then wrapped her arms around his neck.

* * *

 

Storm and Aribeth were writing and comparing notes on some scraps of paper Fred had left laying around, when Fred and Lada walked into the kitchen, hand in hand. Fred leaned over and kissed Aribeth, then sank into a seat beside her, with Lada on his other side.

"So, you had more for us?" he asked Storm.

"Yes," Storm said. "Aribeth and I were going over some of the details."

"It's not going to be an easy trip," Aribeth said, "But, there are Harpers all along the way who can help us. Storm's been teaching me how to recognize Harper signs, so we can make contact when we reach places where Harpers are in residence."

"That sounds good," Fred said. "What else do we need to know?"

"OK," Storm said, "First, the bounty hunters. Second, Lada's claws are waiting for her in Arabel. Third, Nasher is building up an army as large as the Luskan army under Maugrim. We don't know where he plans to use it, but we know he's going to have to use it somewhere, once he's assembled it."

"Oh,  **lovely** ," Fred muttered. "So the Creator fetish for conquest has taken hold of him."

"It sounds that way," Aribeth said. "We need to find some way to exorcise him, or the entire North is going to be at war. Soon."

Freki trotted into the kitchen and put his head in Lada's lap. Lada looked down, blushed, and began petting him.

"I think I should be able to do that eventually," Lada said.

"I'm pretty sure war is going to happen before you get there," Storm said, "which brings up point four. We have agents in place who can get you into Neverwinter, past the soldiers. If you can remember the route you took to get out of the palace, you should even be able to get that far."

"That route," Fred said, "isn't one that I'd expect Harpers to know. We ended up taking a short trip through the Underdark, after crossing the lake under the palace."

"I'll see what we might have available," Storm said. "In the meanwhile, thank you, Lada. I think you will be the key to ending the war Nasher is about to start."

"Thank you," Lada said softly. "I'll do my best. Umm...what's the Underdark?"

"All right," Fred said. "If you know anyone who follows Eilistraee, now would be the time to talk to them, ne?"

"The Underdark is...," Aribeth shuddered. "Do we  **have**  to go that way again?"

Fred drew Aribeth close and stroked her back gently. "It'll be OK, love. If we can find another way, we'll take it, but we need to be prepared in case we can't." He looked to Lada and said softly, "The Underdark is where drow live. And other things that make drow look like angels by comparison. It is the world of caverns, tunnels, and chasms below our world. Sometimes, miles below."

Lada nodded and chewed on her lip, but said nothing.

Storm nodded. "More than that, it's a world that changes constantly. The magic down there is strange, and it makes even the passages and chambers change with it. And that's not even taking into account earthquakes, tunneling creatures, traps, or cities. Going into the Underdark without magic for digging and mapping is a good way to commit suicide."

"I know," Fred said softly, as Aribeth curled against him, shuddering violently. "If I knew then what I know now, I would have fought my way out of the palace, rather than taking the cave exit."

Lada watched Aribeth with a look of concern, but stayed in her seat, petting Freki.

Storm watched quietly for a few moments, then rose and said softly, "Lada, would you let them know that I'm going to try to reach someone I know who is a priestess of Eilistraee? When things calm down, that is? I think it would be best if I left for now, so you can tend to Aribeth."

Lada nodded, then rose and followed Storm to the door. She said softly, as she stood in the door, "Thank you. I will."

Storm nodded and smiled sadly, then turned to go. Lada turned, after closing the door, and bumped into Freki, who looked up at her and wagged his tail hopefully.

"I fed you this morning, what do you want?" Lada asked, crouching to scratch behind his ears. "Do you need to go out?"

Freki barked and pawed at the door.

"I take that as a yes. OK, cool." Lada opened the door, and Freki bounded out into the late afternoon light. Lada muttered, "Might as well take myself out, too." As she headed out and around the house, she muttered, "Note to self: Ask Fred to invent the doggy door. No, that wouldn't be safe. Magnetic lock doggy doors! I'll ask Freki to suggest it to Fred. That's what I'll do."

In the kitchen, Fred held Aribeth and stroked her back as she shuddered, curled against him and whimpering with terror. "It's OK, love," he said softly, crooning gently to her as he stroked her back. "We're on the surface. We're safe now. They can't get you."

Aribeth whimpered and buried her face in Fred's chest, too overwhelmed to do anything but cling to him. He held her, crooning softly, mostly humming without words, but every so often saying softly, "I'm here, love. I'm here. I won't let go."

Lada opened the kitchen door, and the sun shone through the opening on Aribeth and Fred. When she felt the sun on her skin, Aribeth opened her eyes and whispered, "We're on the surface? We're..." She saw Lada and blushed deeply. "Oh gods, I'm so embarrassed. I'm sorry. I...where's Storm? I didn't make her mad, did I? I..." She hung her head and said softly, "I'm sorry."

Fred sighed and looked helplessly at Lada, while cuddling Aribeth.

Lada walked around the table and placed a hand on Fred's shoulder, gently squeezed, and said to Aribeth, "Storm wanted us to be able to give our full attention to you, and she wanted to contact..." Lada bit her lip a moment, then said, "...someone she knows who is a priestess of Eilistraee."

Aribeth rested her head against Fred's chest and whispered, "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I...it's been almost five years! Why can't I get over it? Why...?" She whimpered softly and whispered, "I'm sorry."

"It's not about how long it's been," Lada said gently. "Unfortunately, healing takes as long as it takes. And, it sucks. In fact, unfortunately, it's going to be a life-long process."

Aribeth sobbed. "Life-long?"

"Yeah," Lada said gently. "But it's a spiral. Certain things will come up, again and again, and each time, you'll deal with a little part of it. You don't have to deal with it all at once. In fact, it's better if you don't try."

"I wish I could just forget," Aribeth whimpered.

"That only works for so long," Lada said, sadly. She shrugged and repeated, "It only works for so long."

Fred reached out and drew Lada close, not saying a word, just holding Aribeth and Lada protectively. After a few minutes, he asked softly, "Would it help to talk about what you remember?"

Aribeth shivered and huddled against Fred, then reached out and wrapped her arms around Lada, clinging to her as if to a life preserver. "Tell me...tell me you were never...made a slave..."

Lada swallowed hard, then tentatively returned the embrace as she answered, "No."

"It was...," Aribeth started, then shivered, hugging Lada tightly. "Fred rescued me from Neverwinter...and..." She shivered again, then took a deep breath and said, in a weak voice, "Maybe it  **would**  help...if you think you can stand to listen."

Lada squeezed Fred's hand and glanced at him, worriedly. She closed her eyes for a moment, gathering her willpower and praying for help, then said, "Yes, I can listen and take care of myself at the same time."

Fred mouthed, "thank you," to Lada, and squeezed her hand. He asked softly, "Would you feel more comfortable on the sofa?"

Aribeth bit her lip, then nodded, as she reluctantly released Lada. "I'm sorry. I...I know I'm too physical...I just...I'm sorry."

Lada glanced helplessly at Fred, then said gently to Aribeth, "I know how grounding touch can be. It's OK" She stepped back, smiled, and led the way into the living room.

"Grounding?" Aribeth asked, confused. She followed Lada, clutching Fred's hand in a death grip, pulling him along behind her.

"I'll show you how to do it later," Lada said as she settled onto one end of the sofa. Aribeth sank into the middle, pulling Fred down to sit on her other side. She pulled her feet up and hugged her knees, then looked from Fred to Lada, and whispered, sadly, "It...never goes away?"

"I don't want to take away your hope," Lada said gently, "but I don't want to lie to you, either. It gets better. It gets easier. But...will it never rear its ugly head again? Not likely."

Aribeth let out a soft sob and buried her face in her knees, then, after a minute, took a deep breath and raised her head, whispering, "If I just give up,  **they**  win. I have to remember that."

Fred gently rested a hand on Aribeth's knee and nodded to her, looked across at Lada, and said gently, "That's right, love. And I know you don't want that."

Aribeth shuddered and hugged her knees, then grabbed Fred's hand and held it to her breast, like she would a stuffed toy. She looked at Lada and whispered, "I'm sorry. I...I guess I should start at the beginning, huh?"

Lada smiled gently and offered her hand. Aribeth took it and pressed it to her breast, beside Fred's, looking at Lada gratefully, as Lada said gently, "Start where you can."


	7. Chapter 7

Aribeth looked around herself, but found only darkness on all sides. The only thing she was certain of was that she was still in the water. She did not know where Fred was, and had not known since they had been separated going over a waterfall some time after the lake under Neverwinter's palace had drained into a river. She remembered feeling a tingle, as if she had fallen through a portal, part of the way down the waterfall, and then she had fallen through air - not much, apparently, to judge by her bruises - before landing in the water she was floating in now. She felt naked and vulnerable, with no weapons, no armor, nor any other possessions of any kind but the sackcloth clothing she had worn in prison.

* * *

 

She had called Fred's name a few times - until she heard something large splash in the water near her. How near, she didn't know. The echoes threw off her ability to judge distance by sound, and without light, she couldn't see. Now she understood why her old dwarven associates had laughed at her ability to see under the night sky - it was useless here, where there was no night sky to give her light. She would have given anything to see the familiar glow of Fred's sword, but all there was, was unending darkness. As if that wasn't bad enough, she could not use magic to summon light. Her paladin abilities had been lost to her when she fell to Morag. Her blackguard abilities had been lost when Fred had rescued her. Even though Kelemvor had accepted her as a ranger in his service, she had had no chance to pray for spells since then, and so was unable to do so much as call for an animal to help her. If not for the pendant Fred had pressed on her before dragging her into the lake, she would have already drowned - a fate which she sadly considered might be preferable to drifting in the cold, slowly freezing to death and subject to being attacked at any time by unknown creatures.

* * *

 

Aribeth did not know how much time had passed, but it was still dark, and she had gone beyond merely cold, until she was no longer shivering, but was merely drifting in the water, waiting miserably for something to end her suffering. As much as she knew she deserved her fate, she no longer had even the strength to meditate on her sins, but was merely numbly waiting for the end. The cold and darkness had drained her of the last reserves of her strength, leaving her alive only because her body refused to quit, no matter how little she willed for it to live.

* * *

 

She did not remember her name. All she knew was the cold and the dark. Something had changed, though. Noises were penetrating the silence. Noises that sounded like fish, trying to speak like men. But how did she know that? She couldn't remember, and the effort required to consider the question taxed her more than she desired to deal with. Her body banged against something solid. She felt herself being lifted from the water, and tossed onto a solid surface that rocked in time with the movements of the water. She felt slimy hands roughly feeling her body, then sounds like an argument above her. She lay where she had been tossed, unable to care, or even to know why she should care. More time passed, marked by the movements of the surface she was on, and the sounds of the fish-men, before the surface she was on stopped with a jarring thump, and sharp objects poked her from all sides. She moaned, then scuttled away from the points, off the moving surface and onto a colder surface that did not move beneath her.

She whimpered in pain as her eyes sent stabbing sensations through her head. The pain resolved itself into light, painfully bright, glowing from something...she could not see what it was, but it reflected off the ...ceiling?... above her. The fish-men prodded her with their ...spears?... and forced her toward a group of ...dwarves?... that stood around an animal of some kind, arguing with another fish-man. One of the dwarves left the group and approached her, then began prodding her with his hands, feeling her the same way the fish-men were feeling the animal. She stood, numbly, neither understanding nor caring what he was doing, while the pain in her eyes slowly lessened as she grew accustomed to the reddish light ahead of her. The air was hazy, with the haze thickening into smoke near the ceiling, and in the distance, she saw stone pillars that ran to the ceiling, each with chimneys on the sides that continously belched thick, yellow-brown smoke. The dwarf said something to the others, in a language she did not understand, and the animal they had been arguing over with the fish-men changed hands. He took her pendant, then wrapped a rope around her neck and tugged. She stumbled, then followed, neither knowing nor caring where she was being led.

She followed the dwarf silently, cringing from the painful noises, lights, and presence of so many beings, until he stopped in front of a gate. Opening the gate, he pushed her through, into a pen filled with others, all dressed as she was, from several races. She saw dwarves, gnomes, grey-skinned orcs, minotaurs, goblins, kobolds, and humanoids of races she had no name for. She stood inside the gate, silently looking around, until a dwarf approached and looked her up and down intently. She cringed, backing up until she reached the gate, then sinking down on the ground and covering her face with her hands.

"Oy, lass," the dwarf said, her voice rough, and yet, at the same time, soothing. "I won't bite ye, ok? How'd an elf like you get down here?"

"Elf...?" she whispered, then whimpered at the sound of her own voice.

"Aye, lass," the dwarf said, moving closer, a hand extended. "You're an elf. Do ye not remember?"

"I...?" she whispered, uncertainly. "I...? Elf...? I...am...elf?"

"Aye, lass," the dwarf said. "Ye're an elf. I am called Cali. What name do you use?"

"Name...," she whispered. "Name? I...I have...a...name?"

"Ah, lass," Cali said gently, the dwarf's hand finally coming to rest on her shoulder. "They used ye badly, did they? Come with me, and we'll see what we can do, aye?"

She looked down at Cali's hand, then into Cali's eyes, and saw only concern there. She nodded slowly, reached up to her shoulder, and took Cali's hand in her own. As Cali moved away, she followed, her hand gripping Cali's tightly, as if all this were merely an illusion her mind had created, a last burst of insanity before the cold and darkness took her.

* * *

Fred wiped his sword on the last kuo-toa's clothing and pushed the body off his island, back into the dark lake. Whereve he was, the one thing he was certain of was that Aribeth was out there, alone, and it was up to him to find her. He tested his breeches, draped over bits of wreckage around a fire he had built when he first washed up on the island, and nodded. They were dry enough to pack away, leaving only the meal of grilled fish for him to eat before testing the raft the kuo-toa had used to come to his island. In the distance, he saw a red glow, as of thousands of forges. Since the water was cold, and not acidic, he assumed the glow meant there was a settlement of some kind, and not a magma pocket, which gave him hope that he could find help in locating Aribeth.

While eating, he took out the parchment that had come with the pendants he had used in their escape. Not only did they allow the wearers to endure any climatic conditions, even to the point of breathing under water or on top of a mountain, they also allowed one wearing one of the pendants to find one wearing the other. He had only to use the command word to activate the tracking function, and it would produce a tugging in his mind, guiding him in the direction of Aribeth's pendant. The fish was strange, with more bones than a carp, but it was food. He ate it quickly, then knelt to pray. As he prayed, he felt Kelemvor's presence, reassuring him that his mission was indeed righteous, and that protecting Aribeth was his duty. The powers of his chosen path filled his mind, girding him for the task ahead.

His prayers completed, Fred doused the fire and boarded the raft. On the water, he spoke the command word as it had been written on the parchment, and immediately felt the promised tug. As he had hoped, the tug pulled him in the direction of the glow. It took a few minutes to work out how to propel and steer the raft, but once he did, his journey toward the glow began in earnest.

* * *

She sat with Cali and looked around, her eyes wide with amazement at the variety of beings gathered in this place, all of whom seemed to defer to Cali as their leader. She knew, somehow, that the many varied beings here should normally not be associating at all, yet somehow, Cali had managed to turn them into a community - and because Cali had taken her under her wing, they accepted her. She looked at Cali and asked, uncertainly, "What  **is**  my name?"

"Do ye not remember, lass?" Cali asked. She looked around at those closest to her and asked, "What say you? She cannot remember her name, so we must give her one, aye? Have any of you a suggestion?"

"Look at her hair," a grey orc said. "Why not call her Airwen, for her bright, fiery hair?"

"Air...," she said softly, then her eyes grew wide and she cried out, curling up and sobbing brokenly. "Air...Ari...I am...Ari..."

"You are Ari?" Cali asked, gently stroking her hair. "Is that your name, lass?"

" **He**  calls me Ari," she said. "Where is he? Why is he not with me?"

"Who is he?" asked a gnome. "Do you remember?"

"He...," Ari said, uncertainly. "He...his name..." She huddled, her arms around her knees, her head on her knees as she thought, then looked up and said, a tone of wonder in her voice, "His name is Fred. He loves me."

"Fred?" a minotaur asked. "Is your Fred a great warrior? A human?"

"He is," Ari said, nodding vigorously. "I remember...he is..." She sobbed and whispered, "He will come for me...he must!"

"Among my people," the minotaur said, "there is a story of a human, a great warrior, named Fred. He defeated Zor, the gladiator, in a duel of honor, then he told all who would listen of Zor's strength and honor. If he is your Fred, he is a hero to my people, a human who is as strong and honorable as a warrior of the minotaur."

"Gan," the gnome said, "spread the word among your people. If her Fred is your Fred, then he will help us. I have heard of him, too. He is known, among those of the surface world, as the Hero of Neverwinter."

Ari whimpered and curled up beside Cali at the mention of Neverwinter. Cali stroked her hair and said gently, "He will come for you, Aribeth. No matter your crimes, he will come for you."

"My...crimes?" Ari asked, confused.

"You are Aribeth de Tylmarande, yes?" Cali asked. "You are the one who betrayed Neverwinter, who became the High General of Luskan? Obviously, he somehow took you away from the looming war, and whatever will happen must happen without your leadership."

"Betrayed...?" Ari shook her head violently. "I don't know! I can't remember!" She whimpered in fear and confusion. "Fred? Please help me, Fred."

"He will help you," Cali said softly. She looked at the others and said, firmly, "Whatever her actions on the surface, Ari is one of us. You are right, Sigbol. We must spread the word that Fred is coming, so that when he arrives, we will be ready. If anyone can help us escape our slavery, it is he. Gan, tell the minotaur he is coming. Grull, the orog must fight beside the minotaur, as your people and Gan's are the strongest and the most skilled of us all in the ways of battle. Sigbol, be sure your people redouble your acquisition of tools and parts, so we can issue weapons to as many of our people as possible. All of you, we must work more diligently to appear harmless until he appears. We can not afford to miss this chance. The duergar will strike us down if we do not maintain control over our people until the time is , go and tell the others what we have decided here."

Grull nodded, looked down at Ari thoughtfully, then strode away from the circle, pausing to speak with others of his race as he did. Gan grinned, ran his claws through the fur on his head, glanced about to ensure no guards were within earshot, then growled, as softly as a minotaur can, "I have looked forward to this day since the duergar captured my gang. We shall show Fred that Zor is not the only one of my people who can be called a hero."

"I am counting on it, Gan," Cali said. "Your gang is strong and brave, and you have shown great wisdom in keeping them, and the other minotaurs, in check until this day. Soon, they will be able to show the duergar what it means to anger the minotaur, and I will be proud to say that I was there to see it."

Gan stood proudly, then stalked away, his stride filled with strength and purpose.

"Shall we acquire the weapons they reject?" Sigbol asked. "Not all of them are rejected for defects. Most are rejected simply because they don't have the right pattern, or shine in quite the right way."

"I think you should test a few, first," Cali said. "See if they notice the missing rejects. If not, and if you can find or create hiding places for them, bring in what you can. But be sure your people take extra care to not be caught. We can't afford to lose anyone who can hold a blade, so close to our liberation."

"I understand," Sigbol said. "I'll make sure the others know." He slipped away, vanishing within just a few steps among the rubble and shadows of the slave pen.

"Whatever are we going to do with you, Aribeth?" Cali asked. Ari whimpered and hugged her knees. Cali sighed. "Even the name frightens you, does it? What terrible things happened to break you this way?"

"I can't remember," Ari whimpered. "Where is Fred? Why isn't he here?"

"He will come for you," Cali said, gently stroking Ari's hair. "He will come for you."

* * *

Fred crouched on a ledge, less than a foot above the water, and cursed silently as the wreckage of his raft drifted away. He had managed to avoid a duergar patrol, but in doing so, his raft had been attacked and destroyed by some kind of ray. He had made it to the ledge, and had killed the ray when it tried to leap on him from the water, but the raft had been unrecoverable. Now, he was forced to search for an alternative route - one that didn't involve water travel. He watched the wreckage drifting away, then sighed softly and scanned the ledge. His sword's light revealed that he had not been the first to take refuge here. Previous occupants of the ledge had included at least one drow, judging from the remains left behind. He searched through the remains and recovered some jewelry, a strange-looking suit of leather armor, a short sword, a hand crossbow and a half-used quiver of darts for it, a pair of rods - one made of a dark metal and the other covered with spider and web patterns - a pouch full of clay pellets, a jasper spider figurine, a leather scroll case, and a dull grey cloak. Fred cleared the ledge, carefully placing the bones in a niche in the wall so he could properly bless them, then removed a portable hole from its pocket in his pack and placed it on the cleared area. The ladder he had left in the hole was still in place, making it easier for him to climb down and deposit the jewelry in an empty box for safekeeping until he could analyze it later. That done, he found his supply of potions of identification. Armed with his potions, he began to study the other items he had found.

It took some time, and a number of potions, but eventually, he identified his findings. The hand crossbow and darts went into a box in the hole, as did the armor Fred had been wearing. He donned the new armor and cloak, tried moving in them, then smiled in satisfaction. Whatever else you could say about Drow, their craftsmanship was amazingly good. The rods went into his pack, while the shortsword and pouch found places on his belt. He tucked the jasper spider into one of his belt pouches, then rolled up the hole and tucked it back into its pocket in his pack.

"All right," Fred muttered as he opened the scroll case. "Since all I could discover about you is that you're some kind of divination scroll, let's see if you have a title I can use to identify what you are." Inside the scroll case was one of the best-preserved scrolls Fred had seen outside a library or temple store. He unrolled it an inch or so, and found no title whatsoever, so he opened it a bit farther. He paused, stunned by what he saw, and opened it fully. "Oh...my...," he breathed, as he stared at the scroll. On its surface, revealed in exquisite detail, was a map, showing every feature of his surroundings, from the ledge he was on - which appeared at the center of the map - down to an area in the lake, about a hundred yards away, that the map indicated was a dead magic zone. According to the legend on the map, its markings covered everything within a mile of his ledge, both natural and artificial. He dug around in his pack until he found a magnifying lens he had picked up a while back, then began studying the map, looking for a way off his ledge.

* * *

Ari woke with a start, sat up, and glanced around wildly. Her gaze came to rest on Cali, and she let out a soft sigh, relaxing and laying back down to sleep. Cali, sitting by a nearby fire, noticed her movements and called out softly to her.

"Ari, it's time to wake up," Cali said. "We will be called to go to the fields shortly, and you need to eat" She patted the ground beside her. Ari moved to sit beside her, wrinkling her nose at the smell of the fire. "Rothé dung," Cali said. "You get used to it after a while. Here. Have some sporebread. The duergar make sure we have plenty of it to eat. Not that it's much use to the minotaurs or orog, but so far, we've managed to keep them fed on the rothé the duergar discard."

Cali gave Ari a loaf of bread that looked somewhat blue, and was flatter than she thought bread should look. She looked around for a knife, then realized that she wasn't likely to find one, and tore off a piece of the bread. Inside, the bread was blue, too, but smelled like she thought bread should smell. She took a bite, and decided it was good enough. Maybe it wasn't exciting, but she wouldn't go hungry - and she realized that she  **was**  hungry. Hungry enough to devour the loaf and look around to see if there were more.

"That's probably enough for now," Cali said. "The way you went through that, I'd expect you haven't eaten in days."

"Days?" Ari asked. "How do you tell time here?"

"We tell it by him," Cali said, pointing at a duergar on a watch tower over the slave pen, who was preparing to strike a gong. As he struck the gong, the slave pen gates opened, and all around her, Ari saw slaves rising and shuffling toward the gates. Cali emptied a bucket of sand onto her fire, then took Aribeth by the arm and steered her toward the middle of the crowd. "Keep quiet and keep your head down. You don't want them to notice you."

Ari, not knowing what else to do, shuffled along with the other slaves, her head down, as the duergar led them from their pen near the water to a passage that led away from the main cavern. After traveling far enough she could no longer see the red light of the main cavern reflected on the rock, the slaves entered another cavern, one lit by glowing fungus on the walls, and filled with blue mushrooms as far as she could see.

At the entrance to the cavern, each slave collected a sack, then trudged into the mushroom field. Ari followed Cali into the middle of the field, and did her best to copy what Cali was doing. When her sack was full, she followed Cari's lead and emptied it into an ox-cart on the edge of the field, then returned to picking. The rhythm of the work made it possible for her to lose herself in it, and did not require any thought. She lost herself in the darkness of not thinking, simply picking and emptying, picking and emptying.

"Time to go," Cali said, tapping on Ari's shoulder. "We're done for the day."

* * *

Fred reached out with a hand mirror and glanced around the corner into the next passage. The beholder was still there, floating in the middle of the passage, as if it were waiting for something to come along. He pulled the mirror back, tucked it into its pouch, then covered his head with the hood of his cloak and hid against the wall of his passage. The beholder bobbed along, paused to examine the footprints Fred had left in the dust, then floated past him, into the passage he had come down. Fred remained still, trusting the magic of the cloak to hide him until the creature was far enough away to no longer be a threat. The beholder traveled down the passage until it was almost out of sight, then returned, scanning with its eyestalks as if studying every inch of the passage as it passed, until it came to a stop in front of Fred.

 _"Damn it!"_  Fred thought.  _"Cloak may hide me, but it doesn't hide my footprints."_

The beholder slowly turned - or, at least, it seemed slow to Fred, who had thrown his cloak aside as soon as he felt the gaze of the monster blocking his gear's magic and was thrusting with his sword. As the beholder reached an angle where its central eye could have been a threat, according to what he remembered from his discussions with others in Port Llast, the point of his sword made contact, puncturing the eye and spraying fluid all over the passage. As soon as the eye ruptured, the glow of his sword returned, and he felt the familiar tingle of magic coursing over his body. The beholder let out a roar of pain and rage, and its eyestalks flailed wildly.

Fred didn't wait to see what the beholder would choose to do, now that its central eye was destroyed. He continued moving, ducking beneath the beholder, and thrust upward, putting all of his once more magically-enhanced strength behind his blow. The point of his sword skidded for a moment against its hide, caught on a fold, and sank in, penetrating the base of the monster's body, coating Fred in a gusher of its blood. Fred kept his grip on his sword only because of the power of his strength-enhancing belt, as the beholder bucked and tossed from one side of the passage to the other, slamming him into first one wall, then the other. Each time he hit the wall, Fred twisted his sword in the beholder, forcing the wound open again and dousing himself in another flood of blood. It wasn't long before, even with enhanced strength, only the sharkskin covering his sword's hilt allowed him to keep his grip. Luckily, the beholder was weakening, its wild bucking was fading, and even its eyestalks were growing limp.

Fred held on, sheer determination keeping him attached to his sword at the last, until the beholder sank to the floor and every one of its eyestalks hung limp. He pushed the body off and crawled from under it, then pushed it over onto its back, stood astride its central eye socket, and plunged his sword in to the hilt. The beholder gave one last spasm, its eyestalks fired a brief burst to all sides, and then it gave up its struggle to live.

Fred remained where he was, stirring the point of his blade around inside the beholder's brain case for another minute, before deciding it was dead enough to consider safe. He dropped to the floor and glanced around, holding his sword up to take advantage of its light, scanning for anything hostile that might have been attracted by the battle. When he looked around, he let out a soft whistle at the destruction around him. He had been so busy holding on, he hadn't noticed that the beholder had apparently been randomly using its eyes in an attempt to kill him. The walls of the passage were blasted with craters and scars, deep enough to fit an ogre into comfortably in some cases, some of the craters showing the signs of fire. Not remembering anyone ever mentioning a beholder having the ability to shoot fire, Fred considered the damage he saw, then turned to closely examine the corpse. There had to be some explanation for the fiery explosions, and he meant to find it.

Two possible answers to the puzzle appeared quickly, once Fred cleared away the blood and gore from the corpse. Around the base of one of the eyestalks, Fred found a golden headband, elaborately braided and engraved with symbols indicating it was associated with the sun. As if that wasn't enough, clutched in a death grip by another eyestalk was a wand with a Liberace-sized ruby embedded in one end. Fred wasted no time in carving off the offending eyestalks, then wrapping and storing the headband and wand in his pack, so he could clean and identify them later. He suspected, though, that both of them had played their part in the destruction around him. Regardless, he wanted to get them packed and clear out before scavengers showed up to pick over the beholder's corpse.

* * *

Ari sat by the fire and listened while Cali dispensed advice and judgments to everyone who came to her, whether they were dwarf, gnome, orog, or whatever race. Every single being in the slave pen seemed to consider her their leader, and even the goblins and kobolds did not jockey to displace her. She didn't know why this surprised her, but she knew she was surprised.

"Ari?" Cali's voice penetrated her thoughts. Ari jumped, blushed, and looked at Cali. "There you are. I was starting to think you had drifted off somewhere. You'd better get some bread if you intend to eat."

"Oh," Ari said. "I...you're right. Thank you." She took the offered loaf and tore off a piece. "How long have you been here?"

"Time doesn't mean much here," Cali said, "but since I started keeping track of working shifts, it's been almost three hundred. Why?"

"Almost three hundred shifts?" Ari asked, her heart sinking. "I...I'm just worried about Fred. I..."

"Shh," Cali said softly, an intent look in her eyes. "He will find you. He will make it here. You have to rely on that. You have to believe it."

Ari nodded, biting her lip. She knew, somehow, that Fred would not give up on her, that as long as he lived, he would come for her. All she could do was pray that he was alive. She knew that she had to keep up her strength until he found her, no matter how uninspiring the food was, so she began eating, focusing on that need to stay strong for him.

While she was eating, the gates opened, and a group of duergar entered the pen, their weapons in hand, with others on watch towers around the pen aiming their crossbows into the pen around the group, which was working its way through the slaves, apparently searching for one in particular. Not knowing what or who drove them, Ari crouched with her bread, doing her best to be inoffensive and uninteresting.

"You! Elf!" the lead duergar said, his Common so thickly accented it made Gan's seem smooth and literate by comparison. Ari huddled over her bread. Surely he wasn't talking to her? Surely there had to be another elf among the slaves? Her hopes were dashed when the duergar knocked her over with a sharp blow to the side of her head. "Get up! You are coming with me!"

Ari whimpered and scrambled to her feet, then stood, head hanging, waiting for the duergar to lead her where he wanted. The duergar struck her with a short whip, driving her ahead of him as they left the pen, the armed escort surrounding them all the way to the gates. Outside the gates, the duergar looked her over and grumbled loudly in dwarven.

"Damned drow, anyway," the duergar grumbled to himself. "Still, her gold's as good as any. Better than I would have got for the rothé I traded for this slave. Don't know why she wants the necklace, too. Damned thing's ugly and poorly made."

"It may be," purred a drow woman, wearing robes that gave Ari a sinking sense of dread, standing in the middle of the street with her escort, "but the gold I gave you is enough that you should humor me." She walked around Ari, looking her over the way a cougar looks over a lamb, and smiled coldly. "So you were telling the truth. A surfacer elf. And a female, at that. Yes, I do believe the price we agreed on is more than worth any work you would have got out of her. You know how fragile these elves are. Nothing at all like a drow. I'll just take possession of her now."

"Fragile, and stupid," the duergar agreed. "She nearly ruined an entire shipment of bluecap. Too stupid to tell ripe from unripe. Now she's your headache." He lashed Ari across the back, driving her toward the drow. "Well, go on, you stupid elf. There's your new mistress."

Ari stumbled toward the drow with a faint whimper, then stopped and stood in front of her, her head lowered, hoping that she wouldn't follow the duergar's example and use a whip on her. The drow reached out and grabbed her jaw, lifted her head so she could look her over thoroughly, pinched her arm, then nodded to one of her escort.

"Shackle her to the wagon. She's strong enough to keep up," the drow said. "She may even be strong enough for what I have in mind."

"Yes, mistress," the escort - a male drow in glistening black chain armor - said. He grabbed Ari's arm and dragged her to the rear of a nearby wagon, laden with a variety of weapons and armor, all of it packaged for transport. Once there, he bolted a steel collar around her neck, then locked it to a chain that was anchored to the bed of the wagon. The chain was long enough to allow Ari to move around easily, but not long enough to allow her to get into the wagon, or to get away from the gazes - or weapons - of the drow. She stood where she had been chained, shivering with dread. What did the drow have in mind that would require her strength? Did she want to know?

"So, my pretty surfacer," the drow purred, once her escort was done, "you made it all the way down here, where you're at my mercy. And I have no mercy. Isn't that wonderful?" She smiled coldly, then grabbed Ari's hair and pulled her close, enough that Ari could feel the drow's breath on her face when she spoke. "I've been looking for a suitable subject for my researches, and now you've fallen into my hands. Surely Lolth is smiling on me. You should be grateful to be granted such an important place in my work."

Ari shuddered and turned her head. The drow laughed and patted her cheek, then walked away, while examining the necklace Ari had been wearing when the fish-men captured her. It was heavy, with a platinum pendant. The drow studied it a moment, then cast a spell and studied it some more. When she was done, she laughed.

"So, you have a partner, do you?" she taunted Ari. "As long as I hold this, I can tell where your partner is. How very convenient. I think I'll keep it. Two elves for the price of one is always a good bargain."

 _"No! Fred! Stay away!"_  Ari thought.  _"Don't let her catch you, too!"_

Still laughing, the drow ordered her escort into motion, and within minutes, they were on their way out of the city.

* * *

 _"Hmm,"_  Fred thought.  _"She's moving. I wonder if it's to avoid something, or she's hunting."_  He found a defensible alcove and crouched in it, took the map out of his pack, and studied it. "Damn. The only way to get to her is to go through that huge cavern she was in. I hope it's not a drow city." He memorized the route from his current location to the huge cavern, then packed away the map and started down the passage.

It took less than six hours to get close enough to the cavern that Fred no longer needed the light from his sword. As he was putting his sword away, a rough voice called out in Dwarven, "State your name and business!"

"I am Fred MacManus," he called back, "and I am here to do business."

"The pass fee is one thousand gold," the dwarf said, suddenly appearing from the side of the passage as it lowered the hood of its cloak. "If you're here to do business, I'm sure you know about the fee."

"One thousand, huh?" Fred asked. He grumbled, while sliding his pack off and digging through it, one eye on the dwarf in case of a sudden change in attitude. "Next time, I tell my employer if he wants an errand boy, he pays expenses up front." He paused a moment, thinking rapidly, when his hands touched the objects he had recovered from the beholder's body, then looked up at the dwarf, while taking the wand out of the pack. "Will a wand of fireballs do? When I picked it up, back up the trail, it still had forty uses left."

"Let me see that," the dwarf demanded. Fred shrugged and handed the wand over. The dwarf studied it intently, then drank down a potion and studied it some more. After a few seconds, he tucked the wand into his belt and smiled at Fred, like a police officer who had just been adequately bribed. "That will do very nicely. Welcome to Gracklstugh. Keep your weapons sheathed at all times, and stay in the Darklake District. That'd be the north side of town, closest to the lake. If you're looking to do business, you'll find plenty of dealers there. Anything you want that they don't have, they'll connect you with someone. For a suitable fee, of course."

"Thank you," Fred said. "You are very helpful. Where's a good place to get tanked?"

"Get...tanked?" the dwarf asked, scratching his bald head in confusion. After a few moments thought, his eyes lit up. "Oh! You mean drunk! I suggest the Shattered Spire. Can't miss it - it's on its own little island, with a rope bridge between it and shore. Best damned booze an outlander can hope to get, on the surface or below."

Fred nodded, tossed a platinum piece to the dwarf, and said, "Thanks much. Have a few on me, eh?"

The dwarf snatched the coin out of the air, grinned when he realized it wasn't silver, and said, "You get to the gates, they're gonna challenge you. The answer you need is 'King Horgar's honor'."

"King Horgar's honor," Fred said. "Got it. Thanks. And watch out out here, eh? I got that wand off a beholder. Lucky for me it was alone."

"A...beholder?" the dwarf asked, looking Fred over as if he couldn't decide whether to be impressed or insulted.

"Yeah." Fred shrugged, then unwrapped the eyestalks he'd chopped off to get at the wand and circlet. "I kept these, in case they have any sale value."

"A...beholder," the dwarf whispered, giving Fred a look of awe. "Mister, if you can kill a beholder, without any help from anyone else, you can find all the work you want around here. Just talk to Durna Thuldark. We have caravans going out all the time that can use guards with your skill."

"Durna Thuldark, eh?" Fred confirmed, while wrapping up the eyestalks and putting them back in his pack. "Got it." He extended a hand and said, "If you happen to wander by the Shattered Spire when you're off duty, I'd consider it an honor to down a few pints with you."

"I'd be delighted," the dwarf said, grasping Fred's hand firmly. "My name is Ivar Shadowhunter."

"Well then, Ivar," Fred said with a smile, "I'll be sure to keep a pint at hand for you."

Ivar nodded and grinned, then pulled up his hood and vanished against the rock again. Fred shouldered his pack and started back down the trail toward Gracklstugh.

* * *

The drow caravan, all one wagon of it, stopped in a cavern that it got to through a passage that was barely wide enough for the wagon. From the time they had left the city, they had traveled without any light, which left Ari stumbling over every uneven spot in the floor. When she fell, the wagon didn't even slow, and the drow escorts had simply laughed at her attempts to regain her footing while being dragged by her neck. Now that they had stopped, Ari leaned against the wagon, whimpering miserably. She knew that, no matter what happened here, it had to be better than the journey here had been.

Ahead of her, Ari saw the drow in charge of the caravan - all anyone had called her on the entire trip was 'Mistress' - as she took the cover off a magical torch and used it to read a scroll. After a few moments of reading, the back wall of the chamber shimmered, then vanished, revealing a double doorway. Mistress stepped aside while two of her escorts wrestled with the stone doors. They groaned and scraped along their tracks, but eventually opened wide enough for the wagon to go through. The wagon driver started the rothé moving, and within a minute, they were through.

On the other side of the doorway, Ari thought she had stumbled into some kind of twisted wonderland. Then she wondered where that word - wonderland - came from. Her wondering didn't stop her from staring around her in wonder, even as she stumbled along behind the wagon. She was in a cavern large enough to hold several hundred people, with areas outlined in faerie fire, some with cages in them, some with tables, or book shelves, or weapons racks, or things she could not identify at all. Mistress stopped about a hundred feet inside the cavern and levitated out of sight, into the darkness. The escorts headed off in different directions - two of them closing the doors at the entrance, a couple clearing an area near some of the weapons racks, one guiding the wagon as the driver steered it toward the area being cleared.

Just being in the cavern, with all the faerie fire lighting it up, made Ari feel less frightened. She still didn't know what Mistress wanted, with her or with Fred, but whatever it was, she knew that it couldn't be good. But, no matter what it was, as long as Mistress didn't throw her into the darkness, Ari was sure she could handle it. At least, she hoped she could.

The wagon stopped, and Ari bumped into the back of it, the impact bringing her back from her thoughts. The escorts laughed, and one of them commented in elven, "Looks like she's as blind as a human. Stupid surfacer."

"Maybe so," another replied, also in elven, "But Mistress wants her for her experiments. I just hope there's enough left for us when she's done."

"I hear you," the first said, laughing. "Spiders may be sacred and all, but I sure wouldn't want to do one."

"Even if you did," the second said, while grinning, "you wouldn't want what comes after."

"No arguments there." The first rubbed the back of his neck. "I like my head right where it is."

Ari shrank against the wagon, until the driver walked around and unbolted her chain from the bed. He handed it to one of the others and pushed her toward him, while muttering, "Move it, surfacer. You're in my way."

Ari scurried after the escort who held her chain. He muttered in a language she didn't understand, then pushed her into an empty cage and locked her in. From within the cage, she watched as the escorts carried the weapons and armor from the wagon to the racks it was parked near, then the driver re-boarded it and drove it to the far side of the cavern, where she saw some glowing blue fungus. While he was removing the yoke from the rothé, the others were arranging the weapons and armor on tables. When they were done, one of them levitated to the ledge Mistress had gone to.

* * *

Fred stood and examined his handiwork. The trap wasn't exactly complicated, but it would serve to alert him if anyone tried to enter the room while he was sleeping - and he knew that whatever happened, he was going to need to be fully rested if he hoped to rescue Aribeth. The food and drink here in the Shattered Spire was as good as any he'd found in a roadside inn, and the room was big enough to hold a bed, a chest, and a shelf, which was all he needed. Now that he'd alarmed the door, he could take the time for prayers, so he was ready for whatever came of the morrow.

He opened a bag of holding he kept in the bottom of his pack and pulled out an altar case he'd bought from an Aurora's outlet in Neverwinter, way back when he was still training at the Academy. Once it was opened and set up on top of the chest, he knelt and began his prayers, using the time to calm himself and focus his mind on his faith and his god. As he prayed, he felt the weight of the last few days lifting, and the surety that he would find a way to succeed at his mission settled over him. He had just opened his eyes, and was reaching for his snuffer, when he felt a vision coming upon him. With a soft sigh, he sank back on his heels and waited.

"Yes, I know you're only interested in rescuing Aribeth," Kelemvor's voice said, filling his mind with a sense of understanding and love. "However, there are some in the city you are visiting, who, knowing who you are, have begged for my help. Naturally, I cannot intervene directly. In truth, even sending you to help may be pushing things a bit, but they did ask for my help, and since they do not have gods of their own who are taking a hand in their fate, I feel I may have justification to become involved."

"Yes, Father," Fred said, chuckling softly. "You already know I'll do it. Just tell me what it is you need me to do."

"Lead a slave rebellion," Kelemvor said. "Or, at the very least, lead the slaves out of the city, so they can find their way back to their home realms."

"Eh...," Fred considered how difficult the second alternative would be, considered the first alternative, and pinched the bridge of his nose, as he muttered, "I'm getting too old for this shit." He sighed and asked, "Do you have a plan, or is that up to me?"

"I am giving you directions for how to find the mushroom fields where the leaders of the slaves work. Talk with them. Once you know the arrangements they have put into effect, you'll be able to make better plans."

"What about Aribeth?"

"I have my eye on her," Kelemvor said gently. "She is as safe as any person is in the Underdark."

"That's not saying much," Fred sighed.

"I know. Remember, she has dedicated herself to my service, so I am able to keep a closer watch on her than I could on an ordinary person."

"Thank you, Father," Fred said, deeply comforted by that reminder. "I will keep my trust in you."

The sensation of Kelemvor's presence faded, and Fred sank back against the bed with a sigh.

_"Slave rebellion, or slave escape. Either way, I'm going to be here a while longer. Might as well rent the room for a full tenday. Tomorrow."_

* * *

Ari huddled in the corner of her cage, whimpering softly and quivering in terror as she watched Mistress and her escort working on the arms they had brought in the wagon. They were only working on their third item, but the last item, a sword, had been enough to convince her that even if she were to do everything Mistress wanted, the darkness would still be a constant threat. Mistress had conjured up a giant spider, which had - as far as Ari could tell - been sucked into the blade. Then she had used the sword to murder a drow woman who had been in another cage, and when the sword sank into the woman's chest, the room had filled with darkness, so deep it had blotted out the faerie fire while it existed. Ari didn't remember anything after that, until she found herself where she was now, shuddering with terror and pressed against the bars of her cage.

Mistress spoke in that language Ari couldn't understand, in a tone that indicated she was answering a question. The wagon driver answered, and she gave him - Ari guessed his name was Rizzen - a command. He, in turn, gave orders to the others, and they immediately set about gathering materials from several locations around the cavern. Meanwhile, Mistress slunk over to Ari's cage and studied her like a cat studying a mouse.

"So tell me, surfacer," Mistress purred in elven, "have you ever serviced a drow before, or am I going to have to train you in how to please me?"

Ari stared at her, confused. Serviced? Was that a strange drow way of saying served?

"Answer me!" Mistress screamed. On her belt, a whip lashed about, somehow managing to move without being held. Ari saw that the whip had several tails, and each one was actually a snake, not a leather lash.

"M-mistress?" Ari stammered. "What do you mean? What kind of service do you desire?"

"You can't possibly be that stupid!" Mistress screamed. The lash was in her hand, and Ari felt a deep burning pain, her muscles knotting as the fangs of the whip sank into her flesh, shooting wave after wave of agony through her. She fell down, spasming and screaming out the agony of the lash. Mistress' arm rose and fell, again and again, until Ari's mind retreated into the darkness where pain did not exist.

* * *

Fred crouched in a niche on the edge of a large cavern, where beings from a number of races worked, bent over blue-capped mushrooms like sharecroppers picking lettuce. With his cloak covering him, and the distance he was from the duergar guards, he was fairly sure he wouldn't be noticed, but he kept a ring of improved invisibility on his finger, just in case. As he watched, he noticed that a female shield dwarf seemed to be the one the other slaves, regardless of race, went to as their leader. He waited, keeping watch, until she was near the side of the cavern farthest from the guards, before he quietly slipped into the field to contact her.

"Hello," Fred called out softly, when he was near enough to be heard without raising his voice. "Are you the leader of these slaves?"

Cali raised her head, looked around quickly, then answered, "I am. Is your name Fred?"

"Yes, it...," Fred paused. "How did you know?"

"Aribeth said you were coming," Cali said. "She was certain you would not abandon her."

Fred rested his hand on the drow sword and looked in the direction it indicated. The end of the cavern was much closer than he felt she was. He looked back at Cali, worry in his eyes. "What happened to her?"

"She was taken away by one of the masters," Cali said, "before the beginning of our last shift."

"Damn," Fred muttered. "I'm too late." He pinched the bridge of his nose and whispered, "Father, please keep her safe until I can catch up to her."

"You made it this far," Cali said. "For a human, that's impressive. Call me Cali." She looked him over and asked, "Why did you come out to the fields?"

"I need to know everything you can tell me about your situation here," Fred said. "Guards, alarms, traps, anything that they use to keep you contained. I also need to know what resources you have - priests, warriors, rogues, weapons, the works."

"Just like that?" Cali asked. "You sound as if you're on a mission."

"I am," Fred said. "Your people  **are**  my mission."

"Just like that," Cali said, shaking her head in amazement. "From what I heard about you, I had expected great things, but you surprise even me. My people can be ready by the next shift, but you should know that even though most of the army is not in the city, there are still enough armed duergar here to make things difficult. Beyond the duergar, there are the derro to deal with, a tribe of stone giants, and Themberchaud. If we're lucky, he won't get involved, but if he does, he could make escape difficult all by himself."

"Themberchaud?" Fred raised an eyebrow. When a single being's name was enough to cause worry, it was worth knowing more about that being.

"The Wyrmsmith," Cali said. "He's a red dragon. The duergar feed his hoard in exchange for the use of his flame to power their forges. They also feed him any openly rebellious slaves."

"I see," Fred said softly, his grip on his sword tightening angrily. "Is there a place here where we can talk more without the guards noticing?"

"Follow me," Cali said. She turned and began moving between the rows, choosing an area where the mushrooms were tall enough to mostly conceal even the orog and minotaurs. After a couple hundred yards, she led Fred into a passage, narrow enough to make him glad he was wearing the armor he'd recovered from the dead drow. The passage opened into a small cave, which was filled with battered crates and barrels, each one filled with partially-completed weapons. A mixed group of goblins, kobolds, and gnomes worked feverishly in the cave, doing their best with the resources at hand to provide the weapons with usable grips to match their functional blades.

"Sigbol," Cali called. A gnome separated himself from the rest and trotted across the cave to join Cali and Fred. "How are the weapons coming?"

"Much better than I'd hoped," Sigbol said. "Once they decide a weapon doesn't meet their standards, the duergar simply toss it aside. I wouldn't want to try enchanting any of these, but they're all solid enough for ordinary use."

"Good," Fred said. "Are they strong enough to stand up to being used by the orog and minotaurs?"

"Definitely," Sigbol said. He peered at Fred and asked, "Hero of Neverwinter?"

"I was, once," Fred said, a tone of bitterness filling his voice. "Now, I wouldn't piss on Neverwinter if it was on fire."

Sigbol whistled softly. "I don't know what Neverwinter did, but to lose two of its heroes like that..."

"Regardless of what Neverwinter did," Fred said, "I'm here to back you all up. Is there a table free?"

"Right here," Sigbol said. He led Cali and Fred to a crate that was still closed, and moved the weapons that had been laying on it to one side. "Will this do?"

"Perfectly." Fred slipped off his pack and took out his map. Once it was unrolled, he asked, "All right. Where can I find the giants, and where can I find the dragon?"

Cali and Sigbol joined Fred in studying the map, quickly losing themselves in discussion of the city's defenses. By the time one of the goblins warned them of the end of the shift, Fred had agreed that Sigbol's plan for dealing with the giants was the best they could come up with, and Cali had promised that the weapons would be dealt out to the rest of the slaves, to be smuggled back into the city with their return at the end of their next work shift.

"Just watch out," Cali warned Fred as they prepared to slip out of the cave to join the end of shift return. "The minotaur have decided you are a hero, and will want to show you that they are worthy of the same honor you gave Zor."

"If they do, I'll be glad of seeing them in action - and of telling the story," Fred said. "What the arena masters did to Zor was an abomination, especially to a barbarian."

"What  **did**  they do to him?" Cali asked. "Why did you make such an impression on the minotaur?"

"The arena masters told him to take a dive - to deliberately lose a fight," Fred said. "When he refused to, they had him imprisoned for murder. Personally, if I were to run into those arena masters, I'd feel no qualms about executing them all myself. The only reason Zor is dead now is that he asked me to do him the honor of a proper duel. He died a happy man, but if he hadn't asked me to duel him, I would have helped him go free."

"If you ever want someone to help you hunt them down, just ask," Cali said. "People like that make a mockery of the law."

"Count on it," Fred said."If you happen to be in Waterdeep when I go hunting, I'll keep my eyes open for you."

Cali grinned and nodded, then joined the rest of the slaves, while Fred triggered his ring and slipped invisibly back through the tunnel to the city.

* * *

Ari curled up at the foot of Mistress' bed and shuddered in a mixture of pain, fear and disgust. She knew that what the drow had demanded of her was something that should only be given freely, to one your heart was bonded to, yet Mistress had demanded it of her as if she were some kind of tool, to be used and tossed aside without any thought. Every time she hesitated, Mistress had used that horrible whip on her, and had only ceased attempting to force Ari to 'service' her when she had vomited. Then, rather than continue to force her, Mistress had simply gone berserk, beating Ari with her whip of serpents until she was too exhausted to continue. Then she had thrown herself down on her bed, after informing Ari that she would force her to eat any vomit that was not gone when she woke.

Now, Ari looked out at Mistress' chambers from the spot she had found at the foot of the bed that most effectively hid her from the view of the sleeping drow, and rocked, her arms wrapped around her knees, sobbing silently as she prayed for Fred to find her soon. She didn't know what Mistress would demand of her when she woke, but she was afraid that, whatever it was, she would not survive it. At least she didn't have to fear being forced to eat her vomit - she had used the shredded remains of her clothing to clean it up, all that it was good for after Mistress had finished using her whip. All she had to fear was Mistress, and whatever cruelties she decided to inflict.

"Well," Mistress purred, sitting up in her bed and reclining against the headboard, "I see you know how to clean up after yourself, at least. Maybe you aren't totally useless, after all."

Ari shrank into herself, attempting to hide at the foot of the bed, as Mistress scanned the room. Mistress laughed, a laugh that drew forth a squeak of terror from Ari.

"You don't really think you can hide from me, do you?" Mistress laughed. "You aren't the first slave I've brought up here, you know. I know all the tricks." She paused thoughtfully. "You are, however, the first slave who hasn't done everything in its power to please me after being brought up here. That  **is**  an interesting twist."

Mistress rose from the bed, crossed the room, and opened an armoire. While she looked inside, she continued talking.

"Since you won't see reason and perform as commanded, I guess I'll just have to use you." She turned from the armoire, holding a harness that was as dark as her skin in one hand, and some sort of strange, twin-phallus object in the other. "We'll just have to see if you're in any condition for the experiment I had originally intended, by the time I'm done with my new experiment." She leered evilly at Ari and asked rhetorically, "How much abuse can an elf take before it is too broken to use as raw material for the spider crossbreeds the Matron Mother demands of me?" She grinned and purred, while donning the harness, "Let's find out!"

Ari found enough strength to scream as Mistress crossed the room toward her, the twin-phallus object anchored in her harness and bobbing obscenely before her as she walked.

* * *

Fred woke abruptly, a cold sweat on his brow, the feeling that Aribeth was calling for him echoing in his mind. He glanced around his room, automatically checking that things were as he had left them when he went to sleep - the trap on the door, the candle indicating he had slept for six hours, his weapons and armor neatly arranged in reach - everything was as it should be. He slid out of bed, knelt, and prayed for protection for Aribeth, that he would be able to get to her in time to rescue her.

His prayers complete, Fred sighed and packed his gear. Even though he had the use of the room for another tenday, he had the feeling he wasn't going to be returning after today. Whether their plan worked or not, the city would be in chaos by the time it was over, and he intended to be leading the escaped slaves to the nearest portal during the fuss. Right now, he had to maintain his image as a surfacer who was here to buy duergar weapons. Of course, given the quality of weapons he'd seen, he intended to do some shopping - not only to keep up the act, but also to acquire some weapons and armor of enchantable quality, as backups for his own and to replace Aribeth's lost swords and armor. Regardless of anything else there was to say about them, the duergar's craftsmanship was impeccable.

Packing his gear took just a few minutes, as did disassembling and storing his traps. Once he was packed and armored up, he headed into the inn's main room to get some food and drink.

"MacManus!" a gruff voice called from across the taproom. Fred stopped, then turned to look toward the voice.

"Ivar!" Fred called out, a grin on his face. "How's hunting?"

"Not bad, not bad," Ivar said, crossing the room to clasp Fred's hand. "No beholders, but I count myself lucky at that."

"Damned right," Fred said. "Those things are nasty. So, ready to take me up on that offer of brew?"

"You bet." Ivar hooked a chair with a foot, pulled it out, and sank into it, while waving a waitress over. "So how's your business coming?"

"Better than I expected," Fred said. "I'd always thought the rumors of duergar workmanship were exaggerated. Then I wandered through the shops yesterday, and was amazed. The stories I'd heard about the quality your smiths produce weren't even close to the mark. Even the poorest weapon is good enough to enchant. And I'm assuming the only way I'd ever see the best is by special order."

All around the room, held breaths were released, as listeners relaxed when Fred praised the quality of the local smiths.

"You love skating close to the edge, don't you?" Ivar asked, grinning. "An outlander, questioning the quality of duergar workmanship is positively insulting. Good thing you realized how wrong your assumptions were. So, are you going to settle for weapons off the rack, or do you have special orders in mind?"

"I'm thinking both," Fred said. "I got so wrapped up in shopping yesterday, I never got around to talking to Durna Thuldark, but I did see some nice pieces in the shops near here, too. I'm assuming, if she's got authority to hire outlanders for caravan guards, she's also got the contacts to point me to the best smiths for the work I want done, right?"

"You're pretty smart for a human," Ivar said, nodding cheerfully. The waitress slammed a hand down on the table between Fred and Ivar, who looked up and said, with a wicked gleam in his eyes, "I'll take a kneecracker, and the human will have nimergan. And bring us both a bowl of stew."

"Why do I get the feeling I've just been given the liquid equivalent of lutefisk?" Fred muttered, as the waitress gave him a calculating look, then left for the kitchen. He shook his head, then chuckled. "Stew sounds like just the thing to start the day. I'm going to need the energy, especially if I'm going to try to get special orders taken."

"Two rules I operate under," Ivar said. "First, if there's food available, eat it. It'll keep better in your belly than in your pack. Second, if you're in a defensible spot, get some sleep. You never know when you'll have to go without."

"Ayup," Fred agreed. "And if you have a choice between beer and water, take the beer. It's more likely to be safe to drink."

"No matter what it tastes like," Ivar said, nodding. "We got some kegs of something called Iriaeborean North Brew in a while back. Stuff tasted like rothé piss. But it was still better than bad water."

"Ug," Fred said. "You've had that stuff, too? My condolences."

Ivar laughed in unison with Fred. While they were laughing, the waitress returned with mugs and bowls. Fred dug out his purse and paid for both, then eyed the nimergan suspiciously. "So this is drinkable, eh?"

"As drinkable as North Brew," Ivar said, grinning.

"That's so reassuring," Fred said, then sighed and muttered, "Well, here goes nothing." He took a pull off the mug, swallowed, it, then sat back, a look of surprise on his face. "Say...that's actually...not bad. Not bad at all. Here you had me worried it'd taste like some cheap stout, but it's more like a good yeasty ale."

"Well, I'll be damned," Ivar laughed. "You like it? No joke?"

"I do," Fred said, taking another drink, this time taking the time to enjoy it. "If this stuff travels, I may just have to find a merchant to buy a few kegs from."

Ivar stared at Fred, then leaned back in his chair and laughed. "He likes it. I'll be damned."

Fred and Ivar dug in to their stews, sharing jokes and hunting stories as they ate and drank. By the time they finished their morning meal, Ivar had offered to introduce Fred to a few merchants he knew and used to stock up his own supplies from. The rest of the day was spent traveling from merchant to merchant, arranging purchases of various pieces of equipment, the likes of which Fred recognized from their woodland incarnations, but had never seen in Underdark configurations. After shopping, the two talked well into the afternoon, over a noonday meal of rothé and sporebread, trading tips about their respective preferred hunting areas, from how best to track a deer, to how to recognize Fool's Water by torchlight. Eventually, Ivar pushed himself to his feet and announced, "I need to think about heading home. Sorry we didn't get those special orders you wanted, but we had a good day anyway, right?"

"Damned sure did," Fred said, extending a hand. "I'll just have to see about making those contacts tomorrow. And if I don't see you again while I'm here, I'm extending you an open invitation to visit if you're ever up above. You are welcome as my guest, should you ever visit the surface where I live."

"That's mighty gracious of you," Ivar said, taking Fred's hand. "I accept your invitation."

"Excellent," Fred said, with a grin, as he clasped Ivar's hand. "It's good to know I have a solid friend down here."

"Count on it," Ivar said, then slipped off through the Darklake District crowds.

Fred headed back to the Shattered Spire, where he locked himself in his room and packaged his purchases. Once the bags of holding were stashed back in their pockets in his pack, he donned his ring of improved invisibility again, put on his stone cloak, and headed back out to meet Cali and the rest of the slaves.

The trip from the inn to the slave pens was uneventful, but when Fred got to the pens, he saw that several of the guards wore helmets with built-in lenses of some kind. Staying out of sight behind a building near the pens, Fred watched the guards, and guessed, based on the way they worked their way around the pens, that the lenses allowed them to see either active magic or invisible things. Not knowing which it was, Fred decided he needed another way to contact the slaves.

After thinking for a few minutes, Fred concluded that the best way to contact the slaves was to send a message as if the first part of the plan were already under way. If he sent the message, then it would not be traced back to any slave, and so it would become a part of the undercurrent of the city itself, if it worked. He wandered back into the Darklake District, shedding his invisibility and concealment as he did, and bought several loaves of sporebread at a baker's booth. Once he had the bread, he took several pieces of parchment and scribbled on them, in Dethek, "Did you hear that the King finally gave the Stonespeaker permission to crush the derro?"

Once he'd written the message several times, he wrapped a few of the parchments around loaves of bread, tied them in place with twine, and re-activated his ring. Invisible, he took up a position near the slave pens and tossed the wrapped loaves over the fences. Not waiting to see the results of his missiles, he walked back into the District, invisibly placing the remaining copies of his note on merchant stalls, bars, and slipped into the cracks of doors where there were interesting buildings with closed doors. Once he had all the notes distributed, Fred returned to his room at the Shattered Spire and settled in for evening prayers.

* * *

Ari sobbed brokenly, curled around herself, clutching her belly as she spasmed in pain, inside and out. Mistress was outside of her chambers, but had left Ari behind, with a sneering, "Clean up the blood before I get back," as she left.

Ari knew she was going to be punished, and there wasn't anything she could do about it. Even if she had the materials to clean up the blood - both from repeated rapes and from repeated beatings with Mistress' snake whip - she wasn't capable of moving enough to do the cleaning. She was too injured to stand, let alone perform the cleaning Mistress demanded.

 _"Please, help me,"_  Ari prayed silently, her heart filled with hopelessness and despair. If there were anyone out there other than Fred who cared for her, why was she suffering the way she was now?

 _"Because I could not act until you asked for help,"_  a voice in her mind answered her unvoiced question.  _"All I could do was watch, and wait for you to call on me."_

"You...," Ari whispered, surprised. "Who...who are you?"

 _"I am Kelemvor, your god,"_  he said.  _"You dedicated yourself to my service just minutes before you traveled to the Underdark_

"I...don't remember," Ari said sadly. "I don't remember anything...before the fish-men."

 _"Hmmm,"_  Kelemvor said.  _"You don't, do you? Well, we'll just have to take care of that, then. I can't have you not remembering who you are."_

Ari gasped as she felt warmth flow through her body, washing away the pain of her injuries. Her body glowed as the healing energy flowed through it, and she felt her strength returning along with her memories. Now she remembered being separated from Fred when she was washed over a waterfall, then falling through a portal into the darkness, and all the time in the cold and dark. She shivered as she thought about that cold, that darkness, and whispered, "My Lord...I...thank you, my Lord. How may I serve you?"

 _"You can start by taking care of your current problem,"_  Kelemvor said.  _"Your captor is so convinced of your helplessness that she left weapons and armor unlocked in the chamber you are in. Drow or not, it's still useful. Once you do that, you can stay where you are until Fred gets there. Between the two of you, I'm sure you can take care of the rest of your captors. Remember, Aribeth, I am watching over you. So don't hesitate to call on me next time."_

"Yes, Lord," Aribeth said softly, imagining how much of her recent suffering she could have avoided if she had just asked for Kelemvor's help sooner.

Aribeth began searching the chamber, starting with the armoire that 'Mistress' had taken her implements of torment from. Seeing some of what was stored in there still, she shuddered, but set it aside and continued searching. Among the things in the armoire, she found a leather harness that tingled with power when she touched it. It looked like something Mistress would keep for herself, rather than make a slave wear, so Aribeth took it out and set it aside, despite its far-from-modest appearance. After further searching didn't reveal anything else that could be worn as armor, Aribeth moved on, checking chests. After searching through most of the chests in the chamber, all she had come up with was a short sword that felt unclean to the touch, but since it only disquieted her, rather than making her ill, she decided she'd make do with it.

"I look like one of those 'special' employees of Omphala's," Aribeth muttered, while looking at herself in the mirror, dressed in the harness she had found. It covered her breasts and groin, but in a way that emphasized, rather than hiding, and the straps that wrapped around her body only served to accentuate what curves she had. If not for the tingle of magic that she felt while wearing it, she would have thrown it back in the armoire and donned an ordinary robe. As it was, she felt uncomfortable with the thought of being exposed to 'Mistress' the way the harness exposed her.

The sounds of 'Mistress' landing on the ledge outside her chamber carried through the doorway, spurring Aribeth into action. She moved to hide on one side of the doorway, the sword she had found in her hand, ready to strike.

"So," 'Mistress' said as she walked through the doorway, "is the blood cleaned up, as I commanded?"

"Why don't you see for yourself?" Aribeth snarled as she leaped to attack. The sword bit into 'Mistress' arm as she whirled, a look of shock and anger in her eyes. The sword's blade pulsed red when it hit, and Aribeth could have sworn she saw tentacles sprouting from the edge, drinking in the blood from the wound.

"So," 'Mistress' snarled, snatching the whip off her belt, "the little surfacer thinks she can fight back, does she?"

"The little surfacer," Aribeth shot back, while slashing at the hand 'Mistress' was using to grab for her whip, "is Aribeth de Tylmarande, Servant of Kelemvor." When 'Mistress' jerked her hand back to avoid being slashed by the sword, Aribeth added, "And, the little surfacer is going to be your death!" She moved in, slashing and thrusting with the sword, her attacks forcing 'Mistress' backward around the room.

"Aribeth the Betrayer?" 'Mistress' sneered, finally grabbing her whip and striking back. Aribeth held her breath at the sight of the incoming serpents, then released it with a sigh of relief when they hit an invisible barrier, just before touching her skin. 'Mistress' let out a scream of rage and began wildly flailing at Aribeth. "You're nothing! You hear me?  **Nothing**!"

"Well then," Aribeth growled, "why don't I give you something more suited to you?" She stepped back, placing the bed between her and 'Mistress,' and began chanting, her hands moving in motions she hadn't used in years, but which came back as naturally as if she had never stopped.

Recognizing that Aribeth was casting a spell, 'Mistress' began a spell of her own. Aribeth completed casting her spell just moments before 'Mistress' did. The magic of Aribeth's spell coalesced in the form of a four foot long rat, immediately behind 'Mistress.' The rat leaped to attack, just as 'Mistress' finished her spell. Aribeth found herself surrounded by a swarm of fist-sized spiders, which swarmed over her, distracting her with the feeling of their bodies crawling over and biting her.

'Mistress' turned away from Aribeth to fight off the rat, giving Aribeth a few moments in which to cast another spell, this one producing a curtain of roaring wind that completely surrounded her, the force of the wind launching the spiders on and immediately around her into the air, hard enough that they splattered like bags of goo when they hit the ceiling. While the wall of wind was blowing spiders around, Aribeth began another spell. Meanwhile, 'Mistress' finished off the rat and began a spell of her own. Once again, both spells were complete within moments of each other. Spiders began scrambling over each other to get away from Aribeth. Within moments, she was surrounded by a ten foot clear zone, in which the only spiders were those that had died before they could escape. Meanwhile, a thick, greasy wave of darkness poured out from 'Mistress.' When it rolled over Aribeth, she felt her guts knotting up with the need to vomit. She managed to keep moving, but the spasms and chills raced throughout her body as the darkness passed, leaving her feeling as weakened and drained afterward as if she had given in to the need.

Aribeth and 'Mistress' glared at each other across the room. Without any further ado, Aribeth launched herself at 'Mistress,' sword raised to strike. 'Mistress' lashed out at Aribeth with her whip, then let out a scream of rage when Aribeth dodged the blow. Aribeth felt a wave of nausea pass over her when she hit 'Mistress' and heard something that sounded like a slurping noise, while the blade of her sword pulsed and she felt her wounds healing. 'Mistress' raised her hands to cast a spell. What it was, Aribeth would never learn, as the process of casting the spell opened her up for a strike to her throat. Again, Aribeth felt her gorge rising, as the moment the sword penetrated 'Mistress' throat, the tentacles she had imagined seeing before confirmed their existence, by rapidly growing, completely enveloping 'Mistress' head, then retracting, her brain impaled on their tips. Aribeth sank to her knees and vomited, dropping the sword in revulsion, as 'Mistress' body fell to the floor.

* * *

Fred looked across the bridge from the Shattered Spire, and studied the Darklake District. Things seemed to be a bit more active this morning - or whatever time it actually was - and he wanted to be sure he didn't walk into anything unexpectedly. Guards were rushing about, while merchants and shoppers seemed to be doing their best to avoid them. Fred leaned on the top of the post one of the rope railings of the bridge anchored to, and kept watch, until he saw what he was hoping for. The guards were abandoning the District, all of them running toward the far side of the city. Fred reached into a pouch and took out a bit of cheese saved from breakfast, casting a spell to summon one of the rats that he had noticed scurrying about. Within a few moments, a rat approached and took the cheese. While it was eating, Fred focused on an image of the bluecap field and tied a note to it. Once the rat finished the cheese, it scurried across the bridge and vanished into the distance.

That business taken care of, Fred walked across the bridge and into the market area. He walked into the first shop he came to and studied their wares, selected a couple items he'd noted the day before, but passed on, and took them to the shopkeeper.

"So, what's all the excitement?" he asked, once the purchases had been paid for.

"Guards have gone crazy," the merchant muttered. "Rumor has it, Stonespeaker's fed up with the Council of Savants. About time, you ask me. King should be squashing them, instead of haring off after drow."

"Sounds right to me," Fred said agreeably. "Gracklstugh is a duergar city, and the king should be watching out for duergar interests, not letting derro run rampant. Guards should remember that, it seems to me."

"Damned right," the merchant muttered. Then he looked at Fred suspiciously. "Why should you care?"

If the derro get out of hand," Fred said, shrugging as if what he had to say were the most obvious thing in the world, "they interfere with business. How am I supposed to get quality smithwork if the derro interfere? And they  **always**  interfere, sooner or later."

"You're right," the merchant said. "Why the hell don't other people see that?"

"Oh, I'm sure they do," Fred said, "if they are reminded. Nobody wants business messed up. Well, except derro. They're insane."

"That does it!" the merchant yelled, pushing Fred toward the door. "I'm going to talk to the others! Shop's closed!"

Fred smiled quietly as the merchant pushed him out the door. Stage one was almost complete. All he needed now was to find the dragon. Cali's description of it made it sound like it was a youngster, barely old enough to have a proper hoard. The big problem was going to be its attendant priests. Why a dragon needed priests, he didn't understand, but hopefully they would be distracted when the derro lost it and attacked the giants. He wandered over to The Gohlbrorn's Lair and rented a room, bargaining the tenday price down to a level that was merely outrageous, rather than exhorbitant. Once in his room, he checked the map. It confirmed what Sigbol had noticed when studying it in the weapon cache. One of the cracks in the walls of the rental rooms was large enough to squeeze through, if you had the right equipment or skills - and the armor he had picked up from the dead drow had proven to be just the right thing for squeezing through narrow passages. He studied the map, committing to memory the connections from the Lair to Themberchaud's cavern.

The journey through the passages around the back side of the city was mostly uneventful. The one area Fred had most worried about, where the passages were near the derro quarter, was quiet - almost too quiet. When he reached Themberchaud's cavern, the explanation was loud enough to be heard even at a distance. The sounds of combat were unmistakable. Fred paused in the crack he had followed to the back of the cavern and studied what he could see without exposing himself. The hoard was directly in front of him, coins, gems, and other items glinting in the light of fires, both from a great forge at the entrance of the cave, and from braziers arranged around the walls. High up on one wall, Fred could see a ledge, large enough to allow even a dragon Klauth's size to rest comfortably. He mentally marked its location, assuming that if Themberchaud was in his lair, that would be the most likely place for him to be. Once he was certain of his location, and had marked those priests he could see moving about in the cave, Fred double-checked his equipped gear. Nightscale armor - check; Dragon Slippers - check; Bracers of damage reduction - check; Ring of protection - check; Amulet of spell turning - check; Ring of regeneration - check; Helm of brilliance - check; Belt of storm giant strength - check; Greater cloak of protection from evil - check; Chaos shield - check; wands of the heavens - check; Ripper - check; and finally, his personal holy sword - check. He was as geared up as he was ever going to be. He slipped off his pack and wedged it into a safe spot in the crack, then cast a spell of superior darkvision, after which he searched in a marked bag of holding until he found a special arrow, with strips of red hide between the flights, and tucked it into his quiver, separate from the other arrows, in case an opportunity to get a clear shot at the dragon came up. With Ripper strung and slung across his back, he turned to the rest of his preparations. Now that he could clearly see into areas that had been in darkness before, Fred finished his preparations by casting Righteous Fury and Favor of Kelemvor. Assuming he was as ready as he was going to be, he cast a decoy image into the cavern, about fifty feet his side of the greatest concentration of priests, and began jumping up and down, yelling in dwarven.

"Hey!" Fred yelled, knowing his decoy was transmitting everything he said. "Are you people naturally idiots, or do you practice at it? I mean, seriously! Serving a dragon instead of a real god? How dumb can you be? You'd think you were derro, that's so dumb! Why don't you just bend over and kiss your asses goodbye, you're so dumb!"

By the time he got to telling them they were as dumb as derro, the priests were reacting. Some were casting spells on themselves, others were hurling spells at the image. Now was the time to up the ante. Fred shook a wand of the heavens into each hand and began calling down flamestrikes on the priests. With the decoy duplicating his actions in triggering the wands, the priests wasted enough time trying to destroy it that he was able to fire off both wands several times before they were able to mount anything that resembled a useful defense. When one of the priests aimed a spell at Fred, rather than the decoy, he knew it was time to stash the wand in his off hand and bring his shield into action. Even with his shield in his hand, Fred was able to continue firing off flamestrikes until one wand ran dry, then began with the other wand, before the sound he'd been hoping for echoed through the cavern.

 _"So the rumors were true,"_  Fred thought.  _"Some of those priests are telepathic. Poor dragon must have got a headache from all the priests yelling for help. Well, it won't have its headache when it's dead."_

Themberchaud flew into the cavern, roaring with the rage of someone whose head had to be splitting with the pain of having way too many people screaming for help directly into his brain. Fred stepped out of his crack, onto the hoard, and called out, "Yo! Thembie! Having a bad day?" One of the priests fired a crossbow at Fred. The bolt struck his shield, and a lightning bolt surged back, striking the priest, finishing the job the flame strikes had started. "Sure looks like your priests are, don't you think?"

Themberchaud roared with rage and belched out a blast of flame as he flew toward Fred. At the last moment, he brought his legs up, planted them on the wall above Fred, and pushed off in the other direction. Meanwhile, Fred ducked behind his shield, then glanced over the edge as the flames passed over and around him, letting out a sigh of relief as he discovered the fire had not penetrated his defenses. Up in the air, Themberchaud was making his way back down the cavern, his wings stirring up dust with the strength of the air currents they stirred up as he passed over the area the surviving priests were huddled in. Just to make sure they hadn't forgotten him, Fred fired another flame strike into their midst, then blinked in surprise when most of them died in the column of flames.

_"Wow. I didn't realize I'd done that much damage. Guess they weren't as powerful as I'd expected. Oh well. Too bad Themberchaud wasn't caught in it, too."_

Fred saw Themberchaud swing around for another pass, and decided it couldn't hurt to try targeting him with the wand. The column of fire he expected appeared, filling the space from floor to ceiling, and killing the last of the priests, but Themberchaud sailed right through as if nothing had happened at all. Fred scrambled to leap behind one of the piles of coins, getting enough shelter from the blast of draconic fire that he was able to think about his next action, while Themberchaud launched himself back down the cavern, far enough that he could sweep around for another pass.

 _"Oh well. No guts, no glory,"_  Fred thought.  _"He's going to get in a lucky shot, sooner or later, so I might as well go for broke."_

Fred dropped his shield and brought Ripper around, nocked an arrow, and tested his range with a shot. Themberchaud easily dodged the arrow, but the fact he had to dodge it confirmed for Fred that he had the range. He fired another shot, loosing his arrow just as Themberchaud was firing a blast of magic missiles. The arrow and missiles passed in mid-air, but neither caused any injury: the missiles fizzled when they hit Fred's spell turning, and the arrow hit the dragon and bounced off.

 _"All right, then,"_  Fred thought.  _"Here goes nothing."_

He nocked the special arrow he'd placed in his quiver, drew the bow, and aimed, holding his aim and waiting until Themberchaud's chest swelled in the way it had immediately before both previous blasts of fire. Fred released the arrow, then dropped his bow and snatched up his shield, praying for enough speed to get behind it before the flames hit.

The arrow sailed into Themberchaud's open mouth and bit into the back of his throat. The sound of beating wings suddenly ceased. Fred peeked around his shield, let out a weak "ohshit" and scrambled for the crack he'd entered the cavern through. The falling dragon body plowed into the hoard and slid across the floor of the cavern, pushing gold, gems, and other objects in front of it, until it hit the wall where Fred had been standing. Fred opened his eyes and looked out, directly into Themberchaud's dead, glazed-over eye. He sank to the floor of the crack with a heavy sigh of relief, then reached out to pull down the dead dragon's eyelid.

"Sorry, old thing," Fred muttered, "but when I heard you were dining on uppity slaves, I knew I couldn't just sit back and do nothing."

* * *

Aribeth found the pendant that 'Mistress' had taken from the duergar slaver and put it on. Immediately, she felt a tug, reassuring her that the matching pendant was still in contact with Fred, and that it was in a location where the link was not broken. Now that she knew roughly where he was, she felt safe exploring 'Mistress' chambers. She found a robe and slipped into it, then let out a sigh of relief, now that she no longer felt more naked than she had been with no clothes at all. Once she was more comfortable, she set about stripping the dead drow's body and piling her gear on the bed. The armor 'Mistress' wore was too heavy to be worth the bother of trying to wear herself, but now that she knew Fred had bags of holding, it could be sold when they got back above ground. The ring and belt, on the other hand, seemed to be useful, and when she put the belt on, she felt her strength grow to an unimaginable level.

She finished her search of 'Mistress' chambers within just a couple hours, piled her findings on the bed, lit every available light source, and settled down to meditate and wait for Fred. As much as she would have liked to get out on her own and find him, the hundred foot drop from the ledge outside the door did not appeal to her.

* * *

Fred wormed his way back into his room in The Gohlbrorn's Lair and checked the door. Still locked, still trapped. So far, so good. He checked his outfit for any signs of blood he might have missed when in one of the pools along the way between Themberchaud's lair and his room, decided he looked as clean as he was going to, and prepared to officially re-appear. He stored his trap, unlocked the door, and wandered out into the main taproom, yawning as if he had just woke up. In the taproom were several customers, mostly rough-looking humans, but with a sprinkling of hin, dwarves, orcs, and other, less common races. The buzz in the taproom carried an air of excitement, rather than the air of barely-suppressed paranoia that had been there when he first came in.

Fred walked up to the bar, yawned, and ordered a mug of nimergan. The bartender just looked at him until he slapped coins on the bar. After that, the mug appeared quickly enough.

"So, what's all the excitement about?" Fred asked, pointedly ignoring his change.

The bartender swept the change off the bar and answered, "War in the city. People coming in say there's fighting between Stone Guard and some of the clan guards, maybe more than that. Too dangerous for an outlander to be on the streets."

"Damn," Fred said, just loudly enough to carry to anyone within a few yards. "I'd planned on trying to talk to Durna Thuldark today. Everyone I talk to says she's the one to talk to if you want custom smithing done." He shrugged. "Guess that's not happening, eh? Not if it's not safe to be out."

"Guess not," the bartender agreed. "You would have had to make an appointment even on a good day, so you might as well relax and join the crowd." He gestured vaguely toward the rest of the bar.

Fred took a swallow of his nimergan, made a face, then leaned over and whispered to the bartender, "You should string your supplier up by the balls. He's cheating you."

"What do you mean?" the bartender asked, giving Fred a suspicious look.

"Taste," Fred said, setting his mug down. "Someone watered this. A lot. I figure it had to be whoever sold it to you, because a good bar never waters its stock. Too much chance of pissing off the customers and losing business."

The bartender didn't even bother to taste the drink. He just made the mug disappear, and replaced it with another. Fred picked it up, took a sip, and nodded. The bartender grunted and moved on to another customer.

 _"OK,"_  Fred thought,  _"now that I'm established as having been here when all the fuss started, and being only interested in business anyway, it's time for me to get out of here and meet up with the slaves."_

Fred finished his nimergan, ordered another, and wandered away from the bar, through the crowd, idly sipping on his drink as he chatted with anyone who greeted him, and waited for someone to take the bait of his poorly-hidden purse. It took almost five minutes, but eventually, he heard the loud "snap" he'd been waiting for, followed by a cry of pain and angry cursing.

"You!" the pickpocket yelled. "You bastard! You broke my fingers?"

"Oh?" Fred asked, not yelling, but loudly and clearly enough to carry through a good part of the room. "Did my pickpocket trap catch you?"

"You know it did, you bastard!" the pickpocket yelled, too angry - and in too much pain - to notice that every other person in the room was checking his purse. He pulled a dagger and charged Fred. "You're going to pay for that!"

"Amateurs," Fred commented, sidestepping the pickpocket and giving him a gentle push as he ran past. The push gave him just enough extra momentum that he crashed into a table.

When he hit, the pickpocket upended the table, sending drinks flying across that part of the bar, and slashed an orc with his dagger. The orc roared angrily, picked up the pickpocket, and threw him across the room. Another table collapsed under his impact, and the brawl was under way. Fred skirted the edge of the taproom, as far from the bar as he could, and slipped out the door into the street.

The situation in the streets was crazier than Fred had expected. The derro were out of hiding, and it truly was war, between the derro and the duergar. He triggered his ring of improved invisibility and slipped from building to building, working his way to the slave pens. When he got there, he discovered that the fighting he had expected was already over. The guards were dead, and the orog and minotaurs were posted at the gates, killing any duergar or derro that got near. He didn't know how Cali had got them to stay put like that, but he was thoroughly impressed with her ability to do so.

"Hail, the gate!" Fred called, dismissing the invisibility and lowering his cloak's hood. "Is Cali there?"

"Who wants to know?" one of the orog called back.

"The name's Fred," Fred answered. "I'm just back from killing Themberchaud. Hope you all don't mind that I went ahead without you."

"Only a lunatic takes on a dragon solo," the orog shot back. "You must be the Fred the minotaur have been so excited about."

"I'm afraid so," Fred said. "And I'm sorry to disappoint them. It would have been a glorious battle if they'd come with me, but they would have died, and I didn't want that on my conscience."

"You're one strange human," the orog said.

Meanwhile, the minotaur were talking excitedly among themselves, until one - apparently more intelligent than the rest - stepped forward and asked, "Are you Fred, the hero who gave Zor honor?"

"I am," Fred said. "Zor was a worthy and honorable opponent, and I am honored that he chose to duel me."

The minotaur relayed Fred's answer to the others, and they let up a great shout, swarmed around Fred, and picked him up en masse. The one who had spoken put Fred on his shoulders, and the minotaur carried him into the pen as a group.

"I see you've met our minotaur," Cali said, smiling with amusement as the minotaur carried him to her campfire and put him down on his feet. "You realize every one of them is going to want a chance to try his hand at you, right?"

"I'm afraid so," Fred sighed. "But we can deal with that later. Right now, I need you and your lieutenants to take care of something for me."

"What is it?"

"Two things," Fred said, while sliding his pack off. He took the time to untie ten bags from the outside of the pack and pile them in front of Cali. "First, I need you and your lieutenants to divide this stuff up among your people. One of the bags is all platinum, the others are all gold. And I stashed a lot of empty cloth bags inside one of them, too, so you'll have bags to put the loot into. Second, I need a quiet spot to get some sleep. I'm exhausted."

"I'm not sure how much quiet you're going to get," Cali said, "but I do have a sheltered spot I use when I want to hold private meetings. You can use that. Just head over there and look for a cluster of rocks. You'll figure it out quick enough, I'm sure."

"Thanks," Fred said. "Wake me up when you're done sharing out the loot, eh? We can find portals and get you all out of here."

"Will do," Cali said. She called over another dwarf and sent him off to fetch the other group leaders.

"You speak Common, right?" Fred asked the minotaur who had carried him to Cali's fire.

"I do," the minotaur answered, then stood quietly, as if waiting.

"I need to ask two things of you, then," Fred said. "First, I need to know if your people would rather go to the surface when you leave here, or if you'd rather I try to find a route to someplace called the Labyrinth."

"No need to find it," the minotaur said. "Major trade route runs through it."

"Oh, good," Fred said. "Second, I'm assuming you all are from different tribes, yes? Are you going to form a new tribe, or are you going to split up and go your own ways when you leave here?"

"You assumed right," the minotaur said. "We have discussed that question for many tendays. Many of us choose not only to form a new tribe, but to give up hunting other intelligent beings. The rest think we are insane."

"I'm sure they do," Fred said. "However, if you do choose to form a new tribe, and choose to follow a path of good, I would be greatly honored if you would consider me a friend of your tribe."

"Friend?" the minotaur laughed. "If you will do us honor, as you did Zor, you will be a brother, not merely a friend."

Fred blinked, stared at the minotaur in surprise, then took out his dagger, raised his hand, and sliced across his palm. The minotaur grinned and dragged a claw across his own palm, then gripped Fred's hand.

"I am honored to be your brother," Fred said.

"You honor me with your blood," the minotaur said. "I am Gan, leader of our tribe."

"Let our strength mingle as our blood does," Fred said. "I am Fred, brother to the tribe."

Gan clapped Fred on the back, laughing, and said, "Now, brother, go get your sleep. Every warrior knows to sleep when he can. I will speak to the tribe and learn what we choose."

Fred coughed with the force of the blow, then grinned at Gan. "You are so right. Time to sleep." He headed in the direction Cali had given him, found her sheltered spot, and was asleep, his pack forming his pillow, within minutes.

* * *

Aribeth heard movement on the ledge, and quickly moved from the bed to her hiding place beside the door. She had barely got into position when Rizzen walked into the room, calling out, "Mistress! The..."

Aribeth stepped up behind him and swung her sword with all her strength. The sword connected, and once again, the tentacles did their thing. Once again, Aribeth knelt, retching, over a dead drow body. When she recovered, she dragged the body away from the door, stripped it, and added its loot to the pile on the bed.

"Hurry up, Fred," Aribeth whispered as she dumped Rizzen's body on top of 'Mistress' body. The thought had barely been translated into words when she heard a banging on the doors below. She ran to the ledge, looked down, and saw Fred standing in the doorway, with what looked like an army of minotaurs pouring into the cavern around him.

"Fred!" she screamed. Fred looked up, then looked somewhere between confused and annoyed. Aribeth looked around, wondering what could be bothering Fred, then realized that the ledge had no light on it, beyond what spilled out through the door, or trickled up from below. She ran back into 'Mistress' chambers, grabbed two lanterns, and carried them back out to the ledge. Once there, she set them as close to the edge as she could without knocking them off.

Down below, the drow were hopelessly overwhelmed. Each one had at least four minotaur on it, and their greataxes were soon covered with drow blood. Those who weren't killing the drow were engaged in freeing the caged creatures, which led to some additional fights when they freed creatures that were inherently hostile. When the fighting ended, Aribeth heard the sweetest sound she had ever hoped to hear.

"Aribeth!" Fred called from below. "Where are you?"

"I"m up here!" Aribeth called back. "You'll need some kind of levitation to get up here!"

"Load up the wagon, Gan," Fred said. "Anything you can get out of here is yours."

"Is  **ours** ," Gan said firmly. "We won it as a tribe, we will share it as a tribe."

"You're a good chief," Fred said with a smile. He looked around, laid hands on a minotaur who had been unlucky enough to be in front of a drow's longsword, then found a clear spot where he could look through his jewelry bag, while calling out, "I think I have something in my bag, love! Just give me a minute to find it!"

"I'm not going anywhere," Aribeth said, then laughed.

"D'oh!" Fred yelled, put away his jewelry bag, then searched in his pack until he found a particular portable hole. He unrolled it on the floor, climbed down into it, then cilmbed out again, carrying a rolled up carpet. "I'll be up there in just a minute, love!" he called, then he turned to Gan and said, "I have an empty hole, if you want it. It might make it easier to carry stuff that won't fit in the wagon."

"If it will not fit in the wagon," Gan said, "We do not need it. Thank you for the offered gift, but I can see you know best how to use it."

"Brother," Fred said with a smile, "I'll keep it, but only as long as you agree that it is yours whenever you ask."

"Of course, brother," Gan said. "Now go get your mate."

"On my way!" Fred called as he unrolled the carpet and sat in the middle. "Up!" The carpet rose into the air. With a few simple commands, Fred had it spiral up to the ledge. He had barely landed when Aribeth leaped on him and clutched him tightly, like a drowning woman clutching a barrel.

"You're here!" Aribeth sobbed. "You're real! You're..." She broke down into deep, wracking sobs as she huddled against him.

Fred held Aribeth tight, saying nothing, slowly rocking as he held her in his lap, until her sobs subsided. She wiped her face with the robe she was wearing, and whispered, "Don't ever come down here again."

"Never," Fred agreed, then kissed her gently.

Aribeth responded to the kiss, quickly turning it from gentle to a hungry, demanding, all-consuming kiss. Fred, surprised, followed her lead, returning the kiss with equal fervor. When his hands wandered, one of them slipping down to cup her bottom, Aribeth stiffened and pulled away, a look of terror in her eyes. Fred instantly snatched his hand away and began speaking softly.

"Aribeth," Fred crooned, doing his best to be soothing and reassuring, "it's Fred. I'm here, sweetheart. You're safe now. No one is going to hurt you. You're safe."

Aribeth shuddered, her whole body tense, her eyes fixed on Fred and filled with terror. As he crooned to her, the tension slowly left her and her terror-filled gaze slowly softened, until she was once again curled against him, sobbing brokenly.

"I'm sorry," Aribeth sobbed. "I'm sorry. I didn't even call for help soon enough. I'm sorry."

"Shhh," Fred said gently. "You're here now, and I"m here with you. It'll be ok. Let's get out of here, ok?"

"Yes," Aribeth said. "Let's get out of here." She pushed away and looked into Fred's eyes, gently kissed him, then stood, wavering unsteadily for a few moments, but ultimately keeping her feet. She started toward the carpet, then stopped. "Oh! We need something to carry stuff in."

"Sure," Fred said. "How much space do we need?"

"I'll show you." Aribeth started through the doorway and pointed at the pile on the bed.

Fred studied it for a moment, then nodded. "All right. I should have room in hole number seven."

"Hole number seven?" Aribeth asked, looking at Fred in surprise. "How many holes do you have?"

Fred slid his pack off and opened the lower compartment. It was separated into a number of pockets, each one holding a rolled up portable hole. Fred did a quick calculation and said, "Right now, I have twenty holes. I have room to carry four more before I need a bigger pack."

"You...have...twenty...," Aribeth said, stunned by the idea. "How?"

"Oh, I've picked them up here and there," Fred said, while pulling the hole out of the seventh pocket in his pack, then laying it on the floor and unrolling it. "Klauth had over a dozen in his hoard, and there was the vampire tomb that had a couple, and there was this poor dragon that Klauth's pet fire giants had killed, who had a couple in her hoard...I forget where I got the others."

"I'm just amazed at how many you have," Aribeth said, while looking down into the hole. "Most people never see one, and those who do are lucky to see one, maybe two, in their entire lives. You...You have so many you had your pack altered for carrying them, and you have ladders and shelves and crates inside them for organizing stuff."

"Just throwing stuff in the hole seems like a good way to break it," Fred said. "So I started doing this with the first hole I got. Besides, Lada would have a fit if she were here and I just tossed them in my pack without any organization at all." He looked at the stuff on the bed, then asked, "Do you want to go down and have me hand stuff to you, or would you rather hand stuff to me?"

"Why don't I hand stuff to you?" Aribeth suggested. "I don't know how you've got your crates organized."

"Ok." Fred climbed down the ladder, then made his way to the side of the hole closest to the bed. "Ready whenever you are."

The loot was stored in the hole in just a few minutes, and Fred had it rolled up and back in his pack in just a minute more. Aribeth and Fred settled onto the carpet, and swooped down to the floor of the cavern, landed beside the hole Fred had retrieved it from, and rose to their feet, just in time for Gan to meet them.

"Brother," Fred said with a smile, "This is my mate, Lady Aribeth de Tylmarande."

"Brother?" Aribeth whispered to Fred, while looking worriedly up at Gan.

"The mate of my brother is my sister," Gan said gravely, then grinned and teasingly said to Fred, "Although I don't understand why my brother would want such a frail mate when he could have a good strong mate of the tribe."

Fred snorted, then broke into good hearty laughter. Aribeth pouted at Fred, then gasped as Gan clapped her on the back, laughing at his joke.

"Aribeth," Fred said, "this is Gan, the chief of the tribe. Everyone around us is a member of the tribe."

"Chief? Tribe?" Aribeth asked, clearly confused. "Explain, please?"

"It's simple," Fred said. "Every minotaur you see here has chosen both to give up hunting intelligent beings and to join together as a tribe. As you can imagine, our totem is the bull."

"Our?" Aribeth asked.

"Our," Fred said. "Gan and I are brothers in blood. Even though I'm puny and fragile," Fred grinned at Gan, who snorted in amusement. "that makes me a member of the tribe. Because you are my mate, you are also a member of the tribe."

"Oh my," Aribeth breathed, clearly amazed. She looked at Gan thoughfully, then said, "I thank you for extending this honor to me, and I promise that I will fight for the tribe whenever you call me."

"You are worthy of the honor," Gan said. "Fred chose well when he chose you."

"Are we ready to go?" Fred asked.

"As soon as you have taken what you want," Gan said. "We have all we need."

"Right." Fred rolled up his carpet, slid down the ladder into the hole, and stored it, then ran back up the ladder and stored the hole in his pack. "All right then," Fred said. "Let's go find a place to call home."


	8. Chapter 8

Lada looked up from the table, where she was writing notes on the slate Fred had given her. Her morning prayers had helped her feel a bit less triggered after yesterday, but trying to make the house more organized was giving her something to ground herself in ways even prayers couldn't. She thought she heard someone at the front door, but wasn't sure. Setting aside her slate, she got up and walked to the front door. Just before she got there, she heard someone calling out.

"Fred? Aribeth? Is anyone up and about? Damn it, Freki, I don't have time to play right now!"

Lada opened the door and saw one of the guards from the Twisted Tower, and Freki, bounding about with one of his rawhide chew toys, trying to get the guard to play.

"Hello. My name is Lada. How may I help you?" Lada snapped her fingers, and Freki trotted up to her, dropped his toy on her foot, then sat and looked up at her eagerly.

"I'm  **hoping**  you can help," the guard said. "A minotaur came to the tower this morning and asked for directions to Fred's house. That's more than a little weird, but Fred seems to specialize in weird, so we're hoping it's something he'll understand."

Lada smiled, chuckled softly, and said, "I think I understand. He  **does**  specialize in weird. Let me just go in and leave a note for him and Aribeth, and I'll come with you to get him."

"Are you sure about that?" the guard asked. "This  **is**  a minotaur we're talking about. They're not exactly good neighbors."

"If this minotaur is named Gan," Lada said, "or was sent by Gan, I feel confident coming with you." She reached down to scratch Freki between the ears.

"All right," the guard said. "I'll just wait here, then."

Lada went to the kitchen and got her slate, wrote a note telling Fred and Aribeth where she was going, and slid it under the bedroom door. She grabbed her staff on the way back down stairs and met the guard at the door. "I'm ready when you are." Freki saw Lada preparing to leave and bounced around, wagging his tail excitedly.

"Yes, you're coming with me," Lada said to Freki in a resigned tone. "Fred would have my hide if you didn't." She blushed deeply as she said it.

The walk from the graveyard to the Twisted Tower took a little over a half hour, with the guard talking along the way about his family, whose farm was in an outlying area of the dale, and how happy they were that someone was giving the dead from the Zhent invasion the care they were due. When they got to the tower, Azalar walked out to meet them.

"Lada," Azalar said, smiling warmly. His charm was evident even this early in the day, and despite the unusual circumstances. "Did Fred or Aribeth tell you anything about being friends with minotaurs? We have one in the audience hall, who actually shows up as  **good** , and who claims that his tribe sent him to find Fred and Aribeth."

"Hello?" Lada said, an undertone of nervousness in her voice, but trying her best to sound like she knew what she was saying. "I've been told about a group of minotaurs who formed a tribe, partially based on an agreement not to hunt intelligent beings. Fred helped free them and is considered a member of the tribe."

"So," Azalar said, "he really could be what he says. This is interesting. Very interesting. Why don't we go in and talk to him, then?"

Azalar led the way into the tower, through a doorway that looked as if it led into a dungeon cell. As soon as he had walked into the dungeon, Azalar vanished. When Lada followed, the cell vanished and she found herself in a hall, with a modest throne at one end, and a council table in front of the throne. Sitting on one end of the table, due to his size, was a minotaur, currently talking with one of Storm's guests in a language Lada didn't know. He had a yarting resting on his lap, and a large hand drum hanging across his back, next to his greataxe.

Azalar tapped the Harper on the shoulder, and he nodded, then said something further to the minotaur before stepping back so Azalar and Lada could approach.

"You are with Fred?" the minotaur asked. "I am Ulf, of the Bull Tribe. Gan sent me to find Fred and Aribeth, to help our tribe defend against the killers from the human city of Neverwinter."

"Oh dear," Azalar said softly, then gathered himself and said to Ulf, "Fred lives with us, yes. Lada is Fred and Aribeth's betrothed, and came to speak with you in response to our summons."

"Freki!" Ulf said, sliding off the table and crouching as Freki bounded across the room to him. "I remember when you were just a pup, you silly wolf." He ran his claws through Freki's fur, while Freki wagged his tail happily.

"Well," Azalar said, visibly relaxing and smiling. "Freki can lead you to Fred's house, and I'm sure Lada can answer any questions you may have. Welcome to Shadowdale."

"I thank you," Ulf said, rising and bowing to Azalar. "Friendly relations with humans are often hard to accomplish, but as long as we follow the teachings of Silvanus, our tribe is strong."

"Your tribe...," Azalar asked, surprised, "Follows Silvanus?"

"We do," Ulf said. "At first, some of us tried for a more extreme path, but we came to understand that the balance of nature is in our blood, and so it is best that we honor that."

"Our druid circle is close enough that I can tell them you are here, if you like," Azalar said.

"That would be good," Ulf agreed. "I will need to hunt while I am here, and I need to know what they require before I do."

"I'll take care of that today, and tell you at Fred's house."

"Thank you." Ulf turned to Lada and said, "Lead on, good lady."

"Of course," Lada said, and turned to lead the way back out of the tower, glancing over her shoulder as she left the audience hall, confirming that, yes, it did look like a dungeon cell when viewed from the doorway.

On the way back to the graveyard, Lada was stopped several times by people who asked if she was in any danger. By the time they got to the Old Skull Inn, a guard joined them, just so he could reassure the people they passed that Ulf was not a threat, either to Lada or to them. Ulf, meanwhile, kept quiet, clearly not wishing to add to the fears of those they passed.

When they finally got back to the graveyard, Lada turned to the guard and said, "Thank you for helping us. I was afraid we'd never make it back here. Would you like to come in for a drink?"

"Just doing my job, ma'am," the guard said with a smile. He looked up at Ulf and added, "And it helped a lot that you didn't talk much, sir."

"Nervous humans are a fact of life," Ulf said. "I try to ease their fears as much as I can, but when I'm not performing, it's not as easy."

"If you'd like, I could ask around at the inn, see if they'd give you a chance to perform there." The guard looked as if the idea of a bardic minotaur was just strange enough that he'd make time to see it himself.

"I would appreciate that. What news I have, and stories I can tell, should draw at least a small crowd, I would think." Ulf chuckled as he said that.

"A small crowd," the guard laughed. "Uh-huh. I'll go talk to Jhaele. I think she'll be interested, too."

Lada opened the door and led the way in. She gestured into the living room as she walked through. "You can set your things down there, if you like." In the kitchen, she opened the back door and pointed out and to the left. "The outhouse is that way if you need it. What would you like for breakfast? Fred and Aribeth should be up soon."

"Breakfast?" Ulf asked, slightly confused. "Have you been fasting?" He looked up and suggested, "I could get some of that bacon down, if you'd like."

"Yes, please," Lada said. "Thank you."

Ulf took a slab of bacon off its hook and set it down on the kitchen table. Lada studied Fred's collection of kitchen knives, then picked the largest of the set and began carving off slices of bacon. Freki danced around the table, yapping excitedly while his tail wagged fast enough to be a blur.

"Freki!" Fred yelled down the stairs. "It's  **only**  bacon!"

"Yes," Ulf roared back, "but you know it's his favorite treat."

Lada heard the sound of feet running down the stairs, and Fred appeared in the kitchen, as naked as if he'd never seen Lada's note. Seeing Ulf, he let out a happy shout. "Ulf! Damn, but it's good to see you!"

Ulf wrapped his arms around Fred and squeezed, lifting him off the floor as he laughed. "We've all missed you, too. So where's your tiny, fragile mate?"

"Right here, you big oaf," Aribeth laughed. She was wearing a robe, and had another in her hand, waiting for Ulf to put Fred down so he could take it. "What brings you all the way to Shadowdale?"

Lada crouched in front of the stove, poked at the coals in the fire box, then added fresh wood to the fire. While it was getting established, she went back to the table and cut more bacon.

"Trouble," Ulf said sadly. "An army from Neverwinter has been invading the High Forest. They have slaughtered any who stood against them, from dryads to dragons, and no one outside the forest seems to care. We have been protecting the village of Olostin's Hold from their attacks, but if we can't find a way to drive them away, we will lose the village, and the tribe will die."

"They're what?" Fred exploded. "And no one seems to care? That's outrageous! What about Evereska?"

"Still fighting the phaerimm," Ulf said.

"Silverymoon?" Aribeth asked.

"Many-Arrows."

"Waterdeep?" Fred suggested.

"Your guess is as good as mine."

"All right, then," Fred said, looking to Aribeth for confirmation, "we were already planning a trip to Neverwinter, but now..." He looked up at Ulf. "Will you want to go ahead of us to tell Gan we're coming? Or will you want to travel with us?"

"I won't be able to get there far enough ahead of you to make a difference," Ulf said, "so I might as well travel with you. I left just before first snow. I just hope we can make it back faster than it took me to get here."

"So do I," Fred said, while donning the robe Aribeth had brought. "We were already planning to head that way, because of what we knew about Neverwinter, but we didn't have any idea they were already causing that kind of trouble."

"We'll have to tell Storm about it," Aribeth said. "Assuming she hasn't heard more since yesterday, that is."

"The fey gentleman at the Twisted Tower mentioned someone named Storm, too," Ulf said. "I assume you're both talking about the same person?"

"Azalar?" Aribeth nodded. "Yes, we would be. Storm lives just across the stream from us. I'm not sure where she'll be today, but she'll need to know anything you can tell her about the situation. We can go look for her later. This is the first chance Lada's had to cook breakfast, so I think we should take our time and enjoy it before we do anything else."

"Good idea," Fred said. "And while she's doing that, I need to get something from the shed. Did you bring a bow with you, or were you planning to go hunting with nothing but that big axe of yours?"

"I'd be awful hungry if I didn't have a bow," Ulf snorted. "There just aren't enough labyrinths around for me to use, after all."

"Good point," Fred laughed, while opening the kitchen door. "Ari does all our hunting, so she can show you her favorite spots. Be right back."

"He's right," Aribeth said. "I do all the hunting, so if you need a guide, I'm available."

'Thank you." Ulf watched Lada at the stove and said, "You're rather quiet, Lady Lada."

"The less I say," Lada said, "the less time my feet spend in my mouth."

"Don't mind her," Aribeth said, laughing. "She underestimates herself on a regular basis." She walked up behind Lada and gave her a hug. "Want me to take over the stove, love?"

"Yes, please," Lada said, returning the hug and looking grateful. "Thank you."

"Breathe, love," Aribeth whispered, then laughed softly and moved to take over cooking the bacon.

Lada had a thoughtful expression as she cleaned off the table. Fred came in the door, carrying a small bundle, and walked over to Lada.

"Would you test this for me, love?" he whispered, offering Lada the bundle. Inside were a couple dozen bars of milky pink soap, with rose petals embedded in them.

Lada took a bar of soap, touched it to her tongue, then nodded. Fred smiled and hugged her, then put the bundle down in the center of the table. Aribeth looked up from the stove and grinned.

"What are you two up to?" Aribeth asked, laughing. "Are you plotting something?"

"Who? Me?" Fred asked, looking as innocent as possible.

"That expression still doesn't work," Ulf commented, while moving the chair from the end of the table farthest from the stove, then sitting on the floor where it had been. "Yup. Just the right height."

Lada covered her mouth and tried, unsuccessfully, to not giggle. She said, "I just do what he tells me," then gave Fred a sultry look. He gulped and sat down abruptly.

"Touché," Aribeth said, then joined Lada in giggling. She whispered to Lada, "If you want to have some fun, go upstairs and look in the chest next to my armoire."

"OK," Lada whispered, biting her lip. "Thank you."

"Knee trouble?" Ulf asked, grinning at Fred.

"Knee?" Fred asked, looking confused for a moment, then blushed deeply. "No...no...not knee trouble. Just...I think I need to change into something more suitable for daytime wear. Aribeth, don't touch that bundle until I get back." He started to stand.

"Yes, Sir," Aribeth purred, then winked at Lada as Fred sat down abruptly again.

Lada gave Aribeth a confused look, while Ulf snickered.

"Lada?" Aribeth asked softly. "Why the confused look?"

"Fred  **hates**  that term!" Lada blurted. "He  **knows**  who his parents are! He may  **hate**  them, but he knows who they are!"

Fred looked at Lada, blinked, then fell out of his chair, laughing. Ulf joined in the laughter, pounding on the table with one big fist, while supporting himself with the other hand to avoid joining Fred.

Aribeth blinked in surprise at Lada, then asked, "What do you mean?"

"What she means," Fred gasped out between bursts of laughter, "Is that...I'm a sergeant...not an officer...Gods...I haven't...heard that...in...years!"

"But...," Aribeth said, looking from Lada to Fred, "I don't understand. You were knighted...well, before we were sentenced to death, anyway."

Lada blushed crimson and buried her face in her hands, muttering, "This is why I should never open my mouth."

"Back on Earth," Fred said, once he had recovered from his laughter, "I had spent some time in the military. While I was in, I was promoted to Sergeant. Whenever someone calls a Sergeant 'sir,' there are several automatic responses to point out the error. The most common is 'Don't call me  **sir**! I  **know**  who my parents are!'" He began laughing again. "You thought that meant I hated the term? Oh dear. I guess I was far more vehement than I needed to be. Then again, everyone I ever had to address as 'sir' was, at best, morally deficient...and at worst, a perfect example of a Baneite."

"All right," Aribeth said, "I think I'd have a bad attitude about the word, too. But..." She gave Fred a questioning look.

"It's OK, Treasure," Fred said gently. "You have no reason to apologize."

Ulf snorted. "Do I need to take over burning the bacon so you three can go upstairs?"

"Uh...no?" Aribeth squeaked, turning back to the stove. Fred laughed, while blushing deeply, pulled his robe tightly around himself, and stood to head upstairs. Lada squeaked, grabbed a broom, and fled to the living room.

Aribeth had the bacon almost done when Fred returned, his robe exchanged for something more suitable for daytime wear. Ulf was gnawing on a sausage, and talking to Aribeth between bites.

"...so Gan slammed Kord into the fire and sat on his chest," Ulf said, his hands moving as if following what he was describing. "Kord kept trying to stab Gan with his spear, even while his fur was singeing away. Woo! Talk about a big stink! So Gan finally grabbed Kord's horns and wrenched his head around. You could hear his neck snap all the way across the clearing. Then Gan ordered Kord's thugs to drag his body out of camp and leave it for the ravens. That's the last anyone talked about eating people."

"Kord, huh?" Aribeth asked. "Wasn't he the guy with the nasty scar up by his left horn?"

"Nah," Ulf said, "That's Korg. Kord was the guy with the white splotches in his fur. Made him stand out so he couldn't hunt for shit. Animals saw him coming from a half mile away."

"Sounds like Gan has things well in hand," Fred said. "How  **is**  hunting in the forest?"

"Pretty good," Ulf said. "It took a bit to work things out with the other tribes there, but once we did that, everything's been good. Even the humans get along with us. Especially since we took on the task of helping protect Olostin's Hold." He chuckled. "There's something kind of surreal about a small child coming out and offering to put ribbons in your fur. But kind of nice, too."

"Awww," Aribeth said. "That sounds cute. I'll bet the ladies loved it."

"Err...," Ulf said, taking a ribbon out of one of his pouches. "Not just the ladies. The children were impossible to say no to."

"I can imagine," Fred said, grinning. "Kids around here can be like that, too. So, did Lada come back into the kitchen?"

"No," Aribeth said. "I was going to ask you if you'd seen her."

"Nope." Fred thought a minute, then shrugged. "My guess is, she's hiding from the evil food and the scary people, and won't come back here until we're off doing something else. So we should just leave a plate for her when we're done."

Aribeth shook her head and said softly, "She really does have trouble, doesn't she?" Then she looked at Fred and asked, "So what is it I wasn't supposed to touch?"

"Something you're going to need when you're done cooking," Fred said, then chuckled. "And enough to keep you for several months, besides."

"And you're not going to tell me, are you?" Aribeth said, pouting. "Meanie."

"Yup. That's me," Fred said, grinning. "Mean and cruel like a Sir should be."

Aribeth blushed deeply and turned back to cooking. She was scraping the last of the bacon drippings out of the pan when Storm called from the kitchen doorway.

"Good morning!" Storm called. "Is anyone in the kitchen?"

"Come on in!" Fred called back. "Mind the chair!"

Storm stepped in through the doorway, around the chair Ulf had pushed aside, and raised an eyebrow at the sight of Ulf. "So, people weren't imagining things, after all."

"Nope," Fred said. "Allow me to introduce Ulf, of the Bull Tribe. He's a damned good bard, and he's my brother."

"Your...brother?" Storm asked, her other eyebrow rising to join the first.

"And my brother, too," Aribeth said, smiling. "Ulf, this is Storm Silverhand, our neighbor and friend."

"You are Storm?" Ulf asked, rising to his feet and giving Storm a deep bow. "I have heard many good things of you, from my teacher, Mintiper."

"Mintiper...," Storm mused, returning the bow with a curtsy. "Moonsilver?"

"That would be him, yes," Ulf said. "He taught me everything I know about the bardic arts. And quite a bit about handling weapons, as well."

"All right," Storm said. "I'll have to hear you play later. What brings you to Shadowdale?"

"I came in search of Fred and Aribeth." Ulf gestured at them as he spoke. "The armies of Neverwinter are invading the High Forest, and Gan, our chief, sent me to find Fred and Aribeth and bring them home to help."

"Already?" Storm asked. "Damn. Our news is seriously out of date."

"I'm not surprised," Ulf said. "There are few in the High Forest who would think to seek for help outside. Given that, there would be little reason for news to travel outside of the forest."

"Something's bothering me," Fred said. "Why are they attacking the forest? What would be so important that Neverwinter would devote its armies to capturing it, rather than hiring some mercenaries to sneak in and take it?"

"That's a very good question," Storm said. "And I think we should get some people in there to find out before you get there. Ulf, if you don't mind, I'd like you to come with me so I be sure the information I send is accurate when I ask for investigators."

"All right," Ulf said, nodding. "Mintiper said you could be trusted as if you were one of the tribe, so I will come with you."

"Thank you." Storm said, then looked at Fred and Aribeth. "I'm sorry to be taking your brother...you know I'm going to want to hear that story...but the sooner we get people in place, the sooner we can get useful information."

"We understand," Aribeth said. "I was going to take him to meet the Druids later, so there wouldn't be any trouble with his hunting. Let me know when I can do that, OK?"

"All right," Storm said. "We'll be back as soon as possible. Thank you for understanding."

Ulf stood, got his axe and instruments from the living room, then followed Storm out of the house.

Fred walked up behind Aribeth, hugged her, and whispered, "Why don't we go find Lada after breakfast? Even if she doesn't want to eat around other people, today's a holiday. She should have a chance to celebrate, ne?"

"Assuming Sharess didn't tell her to do something else," Aribeth said. "She's still trying to figure that out, remember. And she may not know today's a holiday."

"Good point." Fred distributed the bacon onto plates, setting aside a large one for Ulf and a small one for Lada before setting his and Aribeth's on the table, and Freki's on the floor. Meanwhile, Aribeth finished cooking eggs, took the pan to the table, and scooped the eggs out onto her plate and Fred's. Freki barely avoided knocking Aribeth over when he rushed to snap up his bacon.

Once she was seated, Aribeth looked questioningly at Fred. He smiled and nodded. She took the package from the center of the table, opened it, and squee'ed happily when she saw the contents. "It's...you...this is wonderful!" She threw her arms around Fred and hugged him happily.

"So...I take it you like it?" Fred did his innocent look as he asked. Aribeth was too happy to notice.

"Yes! Oh gods, yes!" She hugged him again. "Finally, soap that doesn't feel like grit, or like it's going to scald my skin off when I use it! It's...is this where all the goat's milk went?"

"It is." Fred nodded.

"Thank you," Aribeth sighed happily as she leaned against Fred. "I thought I'd have to order from Evereska."

"You will, when we're on the road again," Fred said. "But until you use it up, there's this."

Aribeth pressed a finger to Fred's lips and whispered, "We'll worry about that when it comes. For now, just let me enjoy this, OK?"

Fred smiled and gently nipped Aribeth's finger. Aribeth shivered and snuggled against him.

"Hello, the house!" Azalar called from the front door.

Fred rolled his eyes and whispered, "I swear, we're not going to get  **any**  peace today, are we?"

"It  **is**  a holiday," Aribeth giggled, "and you  **are**  a priest." She slipped out of her chair and headed for the front door, calling out, "Good morning!"

"Good morning!" Azalar called. "Did Lada and Ulf make it here OK?"

"Yes," Aribeth said. "Ulf's over at Storm's house, working on emergency messages, and Lada's upstairs, I think."

"Baconbaconbaconbaconbacon!" Freki yapped, dancing happily around the house, then skidding to a stop at Azalar's feet and announcing, "Mom and Dad gave me  **bacon**!"

Azalar laughed and scratched between Freki's ears. "Bacon, huh? You sound like a lucky puppy."

"Yupyupyup!" Freki agreed, his tail thumping happily on the floor. "Nice pig-guard helped us get home, so I didn't have to protect Cat-Mom and Ulf."

"Pig-guard?" Azalar mused. "Hmm...you don't know his name?"

"You have any guards who raise pigs?" Fred asked from where he leaned on the kitchen doorway.

"I do...," Azalar said slowly. "Now that you mention it, I think I know who he's talking about."

"So what brings you here so early in the day?" Aribeth asked. "I'd have thought you'd be busy with Midsummer doings."

"Oh, most of that will take place tonight," Azalar said. "I mostly just stay out of the way while people do their thing. I'm here because I promised Ulf I'd talk to the druids about what hunting he could do while he's here."

"Oh!" Aribeth laughed. "I was planning to do the same thing."

"Angus came back with me," Azalar started, then glanced around and rubbed his temples when he didn't see anyone nearby. "He's doing it again..."

* * *

 

Around back of the house, a mountain lion sat in a tree with a branch that came near to one of the bedroom windows. He draped himself lazily over the branch and looked in the window, watching as Lada shifted from human form to a spotted house cat, then back again. He yawned and purred, "Why don't you try jumping to the window when you're in cat form?"

Lada crouched on the end of the bed and eyed the window suspiciously. After a few moments of watching suspiciously, she humphed and leaped for the window ledge. Her leap took her just a little too far, but she managed to catch the window sill with her claws. Once she got herself settled on the window ledge, she did her best to look dignified while sniffing curiously at the mountain lion.

"Hello," Lada said. "You don't smell like Midnight, so I'm guessing she didn't send you."

"Midnight?" he laughed. "That cat couldn't send a mouse. Of course, the only reason she's not dead is that she's Aribeth's companion."

"Oh." Lada said, lost in thought a moment, then said. "My name's Lada. Nice to meet you."

"I'm Angus," the mountain lion said. "Nice to meet you. Uh-oh. The yelling's about to start."

"Angus!" Azalar yelled up. "What are you doing up in that tree? Minotaurs don't climb trees, you know!"

"See what I mean?" Angus said. He turned his head and humphed at Azalar.

"You know I can see you," Azalar said. "So there's no use pretending you're not there."

"You get in trouble with people, too?" Lada giggled. "I'm glad I'm not the only one who gets in trouble."

"He's just grumpy because I like investigating things," Angus said. "He thinks I should be more dignified and focused. I think there's too much interesting stuff to be tied down to one thing." He glanced down at Azalar, then asked, "Do you mind if I hide in your house?"

Lada turned and jumped back down onto her bed, then called up, "Come on in."

Angus squirmed through the window and landed on the bed with a solid "whump." "Thank you. Azalar gets so stuffy sometimes."

"If you fit through that window, that means Midnight fits through that window," Lada mused. "Not good."

"Oh, don't worry about Midnight," Angus said. "She's got her own problems right now." He grinned, showing lots of teeth. " **Lots**  of problems."

"Thank you," Lada purred. "Thank you  **very**  much."

"She made the mistake of attacking a band of grigs yesterday afternoon, and..." Angus mrrred cheerfully, "...we decided to do something about her."

"Oh dear," Lada giggled. "I suppose I should feel bad for her, but I just...don't. Will the grigs be all right? Umm...what is a grig?"

"Grigs are a variety of sprite," Angus said. "What kind of druid training did you get that you don't know that?"

"Um...druid?" Lada stammered. "I'm a Claw of Sharess."

"Claw...?" Angus asked. "That's one I don't recognize." He sat up on the bed and said, "Well, then, I should finish my introduction then, yes? I am Angus MacBride, a druid of the ninth circle." He added, muttering softly, "...and have been for the last five years."

"Oh, shiny issues, huh?" Lada asked.

"Huh?" Angus asked. "What do you mean?"

* * *

 

Azalar turned to Fred and muttered, "What is it with him? The most...sorry to say this, but it's true...uptight woman I've seen in years, and he's in her bedroom in less than five minutes."

"She probably doesn't realize he's not a cat," Fred said. He grinned. "Fifty-fifty she shreds him when she finds out he's a druid. We should get in there so we can rescue him."

"Be nice, you two!" Aribeth said, trying not to laugh, herself. "She might need our help, after all."

"With what?" Fred asked. "I don't know any magic to get blood out of carpets."

"Yes you do," Aribeth said, giving in to laughter. "That clean orison will do the job just fine."

"Oops." Fred pushed the door open and led the way to the stairs.

* * *

 

"Hmm..." Lada said. "Meditate...Meditate...Meditate...Ooh! What's that? Can I play with it?"

"Uh...," Angus said, "...did you notice your armor has a rainbow sheen when the sun hits it just right?"

"Let's go downstairs," Lada said, trying to not laugh. "I may have some ideas for you."

"OK," Angus said. "You'll protect me from Azalar?"

Lada looked up at Angus and said, "I'm a house cat, Angus. What do you expect me to do? Look cute?"

"That's always a good start," Angus said, doing his best to look innocent.

"If you and Fred ever gang up on me, I am so dead," Lada muttered. "Well, here's hoping for devilbunny levels of cute."

"Devilbunny?" Angus asked, confused, as he followed Lada out the door.

Fred was just setting foot on the bottom step when Lada started down the stairs, Angus behind her. Fred turned back to Azalar and Aribeth and said, "Whatever we do, don't be too hard on him, Azalar. If he's made friends with Lada, being hard on him will just upset her, and that would be a bad thing."

"So what kind of stimulants do you have here?" Lada asked Angus.

"I don't know," Angus muttered. "Every time I try studying them, they take them away from me!"

"One of the things that actually might help, they're keeping from you," Lada said. "Poor Angus. It is counter-intuitive, though."

"Might help?" Angus asked. "I smell someone down the stairs."

"It's all right," Lada said. "It's Fred. And probably Azalar. He's advocating for both of us."

"Advocating?" Angus asked.

Fred stepped onto the landing, at the same time as Lada, and looked down at her. "New friend, love?"

"Yes," Lada answered.

"So when did you discover you could turn into a temple cat?" Fred asked, then looked at Angus and said, "So the Circle sent you to meet Ulf, eh? I'm afraid he's at Storm's house right now."

"That's OK," Angus said. "I'd rather talk to Lada anyway."

"It was my special project for the holiday," Lada said. "Oh, and could you please explain devilbunnies to Angus?"

"Cool," Fred said, nodded, then looked back down the stairs at Azalar. "Everything's kosher up here, so..." He turned back to Lada and asked, "Devilbunnies? You told him about devilbunnies?"

"I figured it would take devilbunny levels of cute to protect him from Azalar," Lada said.

"So..." Azalar said slowly, studying Lada. "That's why you're Cat-Mom...And...what's a devilbunny?"

"I'll explain later," Fred said. "It's a long, and thoroughly silly, story." He looked down at Lada and asked, "So, are you going to be dignified, or comfortable?"

Lada tilted her head to one side for a moment as she thought, then leaped up into Fred's arms and scrambled up to drape herself across his shoulders. "Comfortable."

"And what about you?" Fred asked Angus. "Now that my wife has adopted you, what do you plan to do?"

"Your...wife?" Angus asked, looking up at Lada with puppy eyes. "Adopted?"

"Yeah," Fred said. "That's how she caught me, you know. She adopted me, and look where I am now." He grinned and reached up to stroke Lada's head. "Better watch out or she may make your life happier, too."

Azalar, meanwhile, was calling upon every reserve of willpower he had to maintain a dignified expression, in the face of severe temptation to break down laughing at Angus' predicament.

"Be nice," Aribeth said. "Don't worry, Angus. Nobody's going to do anything bad or cruel to you."

"No," Lada said, "but we will give you stimulants, which will probably terrify Azalar, until they help you focus."

"Why do I always end up in situations like this?" Angus moaned.

"Don't worry," Fred said. "It happens all the time. But if she thinks you need stimulants, I know just the thing to start out with." He started down the stairs. "Follow me."

"You're not!" Azalar gasped, a look of horror on his face. "It's bad enough as it is! Can you imagine...?"

"Yup," Fred said. "But I think you'll be totally surprised. Lada has a nose for these things. Trust her."

"Fred, do you have any pea gravel?" Lada asked. "I think I'll need about five pounds."

"And a couple old blankets?" Fred asked. "No problems. We use pea gravel around the bottom of graves, to help them drain better. I have a big pile of it in the corner of the graveyard. Blankets, we can get from Aurora's, if we can't find any old ones."

"Wonderful," Lada said. "I just wish I had a sewing machine. Doing this by hand could take a while."

"Quilting bee?" Fred suggested.

"Would you mind explaining what you're talking about?" Azalar asked.

"A meditation blanket," Fred said. "It's good for people who can't keep their focus, and you can use it in the summer time. In the winter, a good heavy wool blanket is usually enough."

"Is that why you always keep that wool blanket?" Aribeth asked.

"Partly," Fred said. "The texture's comforting, too."

"Oh," Aribeth said, nodding thoughtfully. Then she smiled and asked, "So, Angus, what are your intentions toward my wife?"

Angus stopped and sat down on the stairs. " **Your**  wife? I thought she was...but...uh...eep?"

"I think it's my turn to say 'be nice'," Lada said.

"Don't worry," Aribeth said gently, crouching to rub behind Angus' ears. "You made Lada smile. That's a good thing. Now let's go see what it is she has in mind for you." She stood and followed Fred and Lada.

"Meditation blanket," Azalar muttered, as he followed. "The strangeness just keeps getting stranger..."

"Why do I always end up in situations like this?" Angus sighed, following the others.

In Fred's office, he opened his potion cabinet and took out a half-dozen Potions of Clarity. "Here we go. It's weak and watery, but it's as close to coffee as you can get, for less than fifty gold a pound." As Azalar looked on in horror, Fred said, "Here, Angus. Try this."

Angus changed from mountain lion to human form – a good hefty six and a half feet tall, late twenties, flaming red hair, freckles, upturned nose, enough muscles to toss a caber, and plain-looking leather armor – and took the potion vial. "You're sure about this?" He asked.

"Lada says it'll help," Fred said. "And if she thinks it'll help, I'm pretty sure it will. Besides, the things she was talking about sound to me like something I'm vaguely familiar with, which is helped where we come from by giving the person stimulants." Fred paused and shrugged. "Look at it this way. If it doesn't work, all you'll have done is drunk a Potion of Clarity. You'll be more resistant to mind magic for a few minutes."

"Good point," Angus said. "You're sure, Lada?"

"As sure as I can be," Lada said. "Even on Earth, there's not really a test for it."

Angus opened the vial and Lada sneezed, then wrinkled her nose. "Ooh, nasty! When did we move to Seattle?"

"Now you see why I don't drink the stuff unless I  **need**  caffeination," Fred said. "Go ahead, Angus. Like I said, the worst that'll happen is you'll be resistant to mind magic for a few minutes."

"True...," Angus said, eying the vial. He sighed, screwed up his face, then downed the potion in one quick gulp. Once the potion was down, he shuddered and gasped out, "Gods, that  **is** nasty. I don't know what Seattle is, but I agree with Lada."

"OK," Fred said, "Now..." he paused, then pulled a scroll out of its place in a cabinet near his desk, and handed it to Angus. "I think you should try reading this."

Angus looked suspiciously at the scroll, then took it from Fred. He opened it, looked, and groaned. "You want me to read  **this**? It's...it's..." He sighed and sat down, then started to read.

"Angus, when you read, do the letters ever dance around or appear in a strange order?" Lada asked.

Angus blinked in surprise and looked at Lada, then whispered, "How did you know? Everyone says it's impossible."

Fred said, "Oh...my. Never mind the scroll, then." He took the scroll and tucked it back into its cubbyhole. "Why don't you try meditating, instead?"

"Meditating," Angus said, then sighed and sat down.

"Wait," Lada said, as she jumped off Fred's shoulder and shifted back to her human form. "Let me see that scroll. A better test than meditation would be for me to read the scroll to Angus."

Fred raised an eyebrow, then handed the scroll to Lada. "Just don't fall asleep while you're reading it."

Azalar snorted. "Don't fall asleep, eh? What is it? A summary of the last year's farm produce for the Dale?"

"It's a summary," Fred said, smiling. "But not of the farm produce."

"Great," Lada muttered. "Well, shoo, everybody! I've only been able to use these eyeballs for two tendays." She looked at Fred and Aribeth and asked, "Could you please bring me something to drink? Preferably with nutritional value? Thank you."

"No problem," Fred said. "Come on, Azalar. I'll show you a trick I learned a few years back. Don't know if you'll like it, but Aribeth and I do."

As Fred and Azalar left the room, Aribeth put a hand gently on Lada's shoulder and said, "If you need anything, just call, OK?" She smiled at Angus and said, "Don't worry, Angus. She doesn't bite."

Angus blushed, and Lada said, "Thank you," as Aribeth left the room.

Lada sat in Fred's chair and opened the scroll, while looking at Angus and saying, "Please be patient with me. I'm used to using readers, not being one."

"Reader?" Angus asked. "What's that?"

"A reader is someone who reads texts out loud to someone else who can't, for whatever reason," Lada said.

"You mean," Angus asked, a look of astonishment on his face, "there are people who do that?"

"There were back on Earth," Lada said. "Tell me if you need me to repeat something, or go faster or slower."

"All right," Angus said, still looking – and sounding – amazed.

Lada held the scroll so it was easy to read, and began. "Durnan McKenzie was born on the third day of Alturiak, in the Year of the Bow. His parents, Stedd McKenzie and Shandri Buckman, dedicated him at the new Temple of the Lady within a few months of his birth. As a child, he was known for his collection of pets..."

In the kitchen, Fred had a pitcher of milk and a bowl of yogurt, and was talking to Azalar as he mixed up something to drink.

"Back on Earth, we called this lassi," Fred said. "It's really very easy to make. Just take a few spoonfuls of yogurt, a glass of milk, and some flavoring. Given what we have here, I'm going to stir in some honey, a little ground hazelnut, and a few sprigs of catnip. The hard part is the catnip." As he spoke, Fred was stripping some leaves off a fresh sprig of catnip and dumping them in a glass. He poured a little honey into the glass, then took a wooden spoon and began mashing the leaves against the bottom. "We call this muddling. It's easier to do with sugar, but you know how expensive sugar is. You just mash the mint into the bottom of the glass, along with your sweetener, until your leaves are completely broken down, kind of like this. Now, the ground hazelnuts, like this...and the yogurt..." He took enough yogurt to fill the bottom of the glass about a half inch deep. "There. And now, fill the glass with milk and stir until everything's blended together." He sniffed the glass, then grinned. "I think I'm going to make some for myself. You want any?"

"Lassi, you say?" Azalar asked. "Sure. I'll give it a try."

"Don't forget a glass for me," Aribeth said, smiling. She nodded at Azalar and added, "It's really good, and makes even poor milk taste good. The Bedine do something similar, but I'm just not a big fan of camel's milk."

Fred laughed and started in on four more glasses. "I'll second that. It'd be rude to turn it down, but if I have a choice between that and sheep or goat milk, I'll take the latter."

* * *

 

Angus began shifting uncomfortably as the potion began to wear off, and Lada seemed to be nowhere near finishing the scroll. He had never imagined that a single person's biography could be so involved. It had been easy to pay attention at first, but as the potion wore off, his attention began to drift, to the other scrolls in the room, to the liturgical garb folded on top of a storage chest by the desk, to the various office supplies on top of the desk, even to the way Lada's face looked as she read. Come to think of it, she had a very pretty face. And Fred and Aribeth had both seemed unconcerned that he had been in her room alone with her. That was odd.

Lada looked up, caught Angus studying her, and said, "I guess the potion wore off, huh?"

Angus' face turned as red as his hair and he stammered, "Uh...uh...uh-huh..."

"Hazelnut and mint lassi for everyone!" Fred announced as he walked through the office door, carrying mugs in both hands. Aribeth took two mugs from Fred's right hand and handed one to Lada and one to Angus, then perched on the end of the desk with her own, while Fred leaned against the wall beside her and watched Lada and Angus while sipping his own.

"So, how far through the scroll did you get?" Fred asked, nodding as Azalar came through the door.

Lada pointed to a spot on the scroll, about a third of the way down, and said, "I think the potion wore off about here."

"Sounds about right," Fred said, nodding. "From all the reports, Durnan was a busy boy."

"He was," Azalar said. He eyed the scroll, then looked at Angus and asked, "You really listened to all that?"

"I...uh...yes?" Angus stammered.

"Well, we'll have to see, won't we?" Azalar said. He extended a hand to Lada and asked, "Do you mind if I borrow that a minute?"

"Please do," Lada said, handing Azalar the scroll. Once her hands were free, she picked up the mug Aribeth had given her and took a sip.

Azalar scanned through the portion of the scroll Lada had indicated, then asked, "So, do you remember what Durnan did when his mother caught him sneaking a bear cub into his bedroom?"

"Sure," Angus said, pausing between sips to answer. "He told her it was really a dog that belonged to the apHughs. He was hoping she'd never seen the dog, and that she wouldn't see the bear cub clearly enough in the darkness to be able to tell the difference."

Azalar hmm'ed, then rolled the scroll back up a bit farther, before asking, "Who helped Durnan's mother care for him and his brothers and sisters when he was a toddler?"

"Wasn't that Dorna FitzHugh?" Angus asked, while glancing around the room distractedly.

"How did you do it?" Azalar asked, looking at Lada in awe. "Usually, it takes weeks of effort to get him to learn even that much."

"Are you expecting guests from out of town?" Angus asked.

"No...," Fred said, glancing at Aribeth and giving her a quick nod.

Aribeth slid off the desk and set down her mug, then whistled.

"Oh, Midnight's not going to come," Angus said. "She was caught killing grigs, so we put her in a cage at the grove until we figure out what to do with her."

Freki came bounding into the room, barking excitedly. "Dad! Dad! Strange people with walking dead!"

"Frak!" Fred growled. "Undead. Why do they  **always**  bring undead?"

"Mrow," Lada whined, looking down at her empty mug. "Where'd it go?"

"Oh,  **frak**!" Fred grumbled. "I put catnip in that. You're going to be useless."

"Maybe not," Azalar said, loosening his rapier. "Angus, make sure she's sober."

"It's catnip, not alcohol," Angus protested. "None of my magic will make the slightest difference."

"She was...," Aribeth gasped, a look of horror on her face. At the sound of banging on the front door, she reached for a bow that was hanging on the wall by the door and snarled, "That'll keep. Freki, keep Lada safe."

Fred took his sword off the rack by his desk and led the way down the hall, ahead of Aribeth. At the living room, Aribeth stopped and aimed for the door, while Fred stood in the middle of the room and called out, "Keep knocking like that and you're going to get a Sunnyhell welcome, from me and Mr. Pointy!"

"Mr. Pointy?" Azalar whispered, standing beside Aribeth.

"Don't ask," Aribeth answered. "He tried to explain it to me once, and all he did was give me a headache."

"So where does this fall on the Apocalypse Scale?" Lada asked, giggling maniacally. "The Apocalypse Scale. We're on the Apocalypse Scale, and I'm doped up on kitty crack."

"This?" Fred shot back. "It doesn't even rank. Think Captain Forehead with an upset stomach."

"OK," Lada purred, while leaning against Angus. "I'll snuggle this cute thing here."

Angus looked down at Lada, blinked rapidly, then began mumbling under his breath as he tried to remember any spells that he could adapt to the current situation.

The front door blew in, followed by a bolt of lightning. While the dust was still settling, Aribeth began firing through the opening.

"Damn it!" Fred complained as he set himself to meet the first of the invaders. "Why do they  **never**  simply open the damned door? It's not like it was  **locked**!"

"Does he always complain like this?" Azalar asked, then threw a hail of thorns through the doorway.

"Only when we're not the ones initiating," Aribeth said, glanced at Fred with a loving smile, then dropped a zombie with an arrow through the head. "At least this is  **our**  house. You should hear him complain if the bad guys hurt someone else's home while trying to get to us."

A dwarf in full plate charged through the doorway, swinging a two-handed axe. Fred dodged the axe, spun, and slashed across the dwarf's back. The dwarf turned to swing at Fred again, and fell, an arrow through his left eye.

Angus looked down at Lada, who was clinging to his chest and sleeping as if nothing unusual were happening around her, and sighed. He scooped her up, carried her back down the hallway a few feet, and gently placed her on the floor. "Keep her safe, Freki," he said, before returning to the living room.

"Angus, now would be a very good time for some nice thorny vines," Azalar suggested.

Angus nodded and began chanting. A moment later, the area around the front door was filled with a tangled mass of brambles, dense enough to prevent movement without injury to the invaders. Fred nodded, slipped a wand out of his sleeve, and pointed it through the doorway. A moment later, several loud booms in rapid succession announced the arrival of flamestrikes.

"Aaaa! Aaaa! Getitoff! Getitoff! Getit crunch" came from down the hallway, where Angus had placed Lada. Angus and Azalar hurried to intervene, then stood, staring down at the sight of a lioness, curled up, sleeping, in the middle of the hallway, holding a dead halfling assassin in her mouth, her fangs punched through his skull.

"Uh, Azalar? I'm  **not**  going to try taking that from her." Angus said, unsteadily.

"I think, in this case, we should just let sleeping cats lie," Azalar agreed.

"I tried," Freki whimpered. "She got all kitty and bit him before I could stop her."

"Don't worry," Azalar said, dropping to one knee and scratching between Freki's ears. "You're a good boy."

"Bacon?" Freki asked, hopefully wagging his tail.

"I'm sure Fred will give you some, after all the bad guys are dead," Azalar said. "So let's make sure they're all dead, OK?"

"Bacon!" Freki barked happily, and ran down the hallway to the living room.

In the living room, Aribeth was leaning against Fred, the couple looking through the brambles into the devastation that had been their front yard. "You know, sweetheart, flamestrikes are almost as hard on the lawn as they are on the garden."

"As long as they're harder on the bad guys, I don't mind," Fred said. "Much."

"Lada caught an assassin," Angus said. "She's...uh...big. Really big."

"Oh?" Fred asked. "How big is 'really big'?"

"Cat-mom could shred Midnight!" Freki announced, while dancing excitedly in front of Fred and Aribeth..

"She could, huh?" Fred chuckled, then looked from Freki to Angus and Azalar. "An assassin?"

"Halfling," Azalar said. "Probably got in a window. She's...let's just say, we're not going to try taking the body away from her."

"And people wonder why I prefer a Kemetic house plan," Fred muttered under his breath.

"She's not playing with its skull, is she?" Aribeth asked, a sly smile on her face.

"Errr...no," Angus said. "She's...holding it by the head."

"Lada and skulls," Aribeth giggled. "As bad as Fred and flamestrikes."

"Hey!" Fred protested, while hugging Aribeth tightly. "I resemble that remark!"

"Get a room," Azalar growled, smiling.

"Don't mind if I do," Fred announced, moving as if to scoop Aribeth up in his arms.

Aribeth deftly danced out of his reach and asked, "So what did you see, if anything?"

"Didn't see anything," Angus said. "But I heard someone screaming, for just a moment, then a crunching noise. When we got into the hallway, Lada was curled up, sleeping, with the assassin's head in her mouth. And Freki's right. She's big enough that she could shred Midnight without much effort. Assuming she were as quick as she was with the assassin."

"That might be the best thing for everyone," Aribeth hissed, leaning against Fred and clutching his arm as he wrapped it around her. "She...when it was just me, I could assume I was being punished for what I did. But she's hurting other people, too? Even beings as innocent as grigs?"

"What else can you expect when you have a Bane Beast for a pet?" Angus asked. Fred, Aribeth, and Azalar all stared at him with varying degrees of shock written on their faces. "What? You didn't know? I thought it was obvious!"

"Midnight...," Fred started, then shook his head. "I'd HEARD of them, but never saw one before."

"So...she...," Aribeth shuddered and cuddled against Fred.

"That explains what seemed so familiar," Azalar said. "I thought I was just being over-sensitive."

"I  **said**  she was a bad kitty!" Freki announced, smugly.

"Yes, you did," Aribeth said, and knelt to hug Freki. "And I'm sorry I didn't believe you."

"Do you remember when and where you got her?" Azalar asked. "If there's one, there was likely to be more."

"Yes," Fred said, when Aribeth seemed disinclined to answer. "We were near Hellgate Keep, just a couple weeks after leaving the Bull Tribe so the bounty hunters didn't find them while hunting us."

"Well, that explains it," Azalar said. "There's so many of them around there, you'd have been extremely fortunate to not end up with one. At least you didn't end up with some kind of demonic or diabolical animal."

"Then again, if we'd run into one of those, it wouldn't have lasted long enough to get here," Fred said.

"Even if it had," Aribeth said, standing and leaning against Fred, "Lada probably would have done to it what she did to that crypt spawn her first night here."

"What...she did...to that...crypt spawn?" Angus asked. "What did she do...to a crypt spawn?"

"Used its skull for a plaything," Aribeth said, her tone of voice so innocent it could only be fake.

"Used...its skull...for a plaything?" Angus squeaked, looking toward the hallway. "And...you thought...she needed guarding?"

"Well, she IS stoned," Fred said. "I didn't expect her to go all feral on us."

"Good thing she did," Azalar said. "Halfling assassins are annoying."

"Speaking from experience?" Fred asked.

"Unfortunately," Azalar said. "I hate Zhents."

"Doesn't everyone?" Fred agreed.

"You know," Aribeth said, "This emphasizes that we need to get on the road. This makes two groups of bounty hunters in less than a month. With that, and Ulf's news, the sooner we're on our way to Neverwinter, the better."

"I'm afraid you're right, love," Fred agreed. "I'm sorry I didn't have time to train an assistant, Azalar. I'll send a letter to Suzail, asking for a priest who can deal with rural living."

"We'll manage," Azalar said. "Glamerie managed things adequately before you arrived, and we can get by again until you return."

"Ewwww," Lada complained sleepily from the hallway. "What tastes all greasy?"

"That's hair oil, dear," Aribeth said, barely restraining a giggle as she walked into the hallway. "Why not just let go of your toy so we can clean it up?"

"Oh, good idea," Lada agreed, then spat out the halfling. "Bleah." She stretched, yawned, and went back to sleep, while Aribeth picked up the body.

"You're right," Fred said quietly to Angus, "she  **is**  big."

"All right," Aribeth said as she put the dead halfling down on a coffee table. "Let's see what we can find out, shall we?"

"For starters," Azalar said, "he's been staying at the Old Skull for nearly a full tenday. If he hasn't cleared out, we should be able to learn more by examining his room, and by talking with Jhaele."

"Good plan," Fred said, nodding in agreement while watching Aribeth strip-search the body. "Anything interesting, love?"

"Yes," Aribeth said, holding up the assassin's undergarment. "I didn't know you could convince a man to wear lock picks  **there**."

Angus turned as red as his hair, while Azalar snorted. "You'd be amazed at what we've found on prisoners. And in them."

"Not really," Aribeth said. "Given what we've run into the last few years, not much amazes me any more."

"I think you'd better sit down," Fred said, gently pushing Angus toward a chair. "You look like you're about to implode."

"I can't  **imagine**  why," Aribeth said, as she tossed the undergarment aside and began examining the assassin's other gear. "Well, this is interesting." She took a folded piece of parchment out of one of the assassin's pouches and opened it up. The parchment was printed with a fair likeness of both Fred and Aribeth, with a list of crimes on it that made Azalar whistle as he read it, and a bounty that inspired Aribeth to say, "If I thought we could get away with it, I'd turn myself in, for that much money."

"You know, that might get us close enough," Fred mused.

"You're insane," Azalar stated. "Absolutely insane."

"And this is news, exactly how?" Fred asked, grinning. "Why don't we sit down and talk about what use we can make of this bounty situation?"

"And how it might help us with the Tribe," Aribeth added.


End file.
